Cousins War
by Demigirl17
Summary: My name is Jade Holmes...hi! I'm 18, an American, and according to my cousin Mycroft a pain in the arse. I'm aspiring to be just like my cousin. The great Sherlock Holmes.
1. Away I go

Bored.

Bored.

Bored.

I sat upside down in a couch that Mycroft clearly never used. His mouth was moving, but God help my ADD I wasn't even kind of listening. The lines between his eyes were scrunching closer and closer together. I wrinkled my nose at him.

"Jayden, are you even listening?" He demanded.

"My dear cousin, if you eyes narrow anymore your eyebrows will become an eyebrow." I rolled myself onto my stomach and did a small tuck and roll off the leather couch. I landed spread eagle on the ground. Mycroft rolled his eyes.

"You are eighteen," He said shortly, "quit acting like a wild child."

" 'Merica." I responded.

I hadn't asked to come to London. My mother thought I needed a little time away from the crime and horrors of Chicago. She had tried some family members who lived closer to home, but my reputation proceeded me, and no one wanted to put up with Jayden Grace Holmes. As Mycroft was poliete enough to point out seven…now eight times, he had be gracious enough to say yes. I found the man to be overly dull.

"I'm going to run an errand. Can I trust you to beheave well I'm gone?"

"You can trust me as much as you want, but I would advise you against it." I smiled the famous Holmes smile at him. I didn't look anything like Mycroft, but if I remembered him correctly my cousin Sherlock look kind of like me. Same color hair, same cheek bones, same thin body type, and the same ears that stuck just a little too far out.

He stomped his foot like a spoiled kid, and slammed the door behind him. I smiled, I loved nothing more than getting under people's skin. Especially people who thought they were better than others.

I counted the footsteps until there was nothing, but silence. I pushed myself off the carpet, and stood on my hands for a few seconds before letting myself drop. Just to practice.

I was an unusual girl who was obessed with bookbags and carried around a man's wallet. There wasn't a dollar in it, just a bunch of pictures.

I walked across Mycroft's floor to the window that was left open to invite in the summer breeze. I peered out of it curiously. It was only a floor in the air. I swung my legs out and dangled them for a second. Mom had been insistant that when I arrived in London I would have no contact with my cousin Sherlock.

As a serial rule breaker my instincts over took my better judgement and I hopped down from the window. I barely managed to catch myself at the last second. I rolled painfully at the feet of a complete stranger. The look of shock on his face was enough to make me laugh aloud.

"Are you okay Miss?" He asked instantly concerned.

"No sir." I put on a teary face, "Do you have a cell phone I could borrow please?"

He pulled out a sleak black smart phone and handed it to me. I smiled gratefully, and typed my cousins name in the google bar. Several hits came up, but I had to scroll for a while before I found what I was looking for. I hit end.

"Thanks so much." I threw the phone back to the confused looking man.

"But…But…"

I was already a block away. 221 B Baker Street. I kept repeating it over and over in my head. I didn't know what I'd do when I finally saw him. I just wanted to know what all the fuss was about my genius cousin who was too dangerous to get involved with. The rain was starting to pick up.

That was the one thing I missed most about America. Its dryness.

It took me half an hour's walk to get to 221 B Baker Street. I stared at the small sandwhich shop in front of the building that was currently closed. There was a rusty old fire escape on the side of the building, but it looked so sketchy even I didn't dare try it. Instead I knocked on the front door.

A friendly looking old lady opened the door. I blinked several times. The woman was shorter than me, maybe about five feet or so. She had clearly dyed hair, and bright blue eyes. She greeted me warmly.

"Sorry to bother you ma'am. I was looking for Sherlock Holmes. I must have the wrong…"

The woman sighed heavily and stepped a side so I could come in. She turned her head and hollered up the stairs so loud I nearly jumped out of my skin. "Boys! Another one for you!" Her voice screeched through the hall.

A short blonde haired man strolled down the stairs rolling his eyes. He smiled at me kindly. "I'm terribly sorry. My roommate is BEING DIFFICULT." He shouted. "He says he won't see anything less interesting than a seven. Whatever that means." He smiled once more. His blue eyes were apologetic.

I shrugged nonchalantly. It looked like I was going to have to take the fire escape after all. I shook hands with the kind man and thanked the elderly woman polietely. I was difficult, not a bitch.

I scoped the fire escape carefully. I pulled the rusty ladder down slowly. It creeked loudly, I hoisted myself up carefully. I walked on the balls of my feet catiously, the last thing I wanted to do was fall and break my neck. I peeked into an open window.

A man with dark brown hair and ice blue eyes sat lazily upside down on a couch. His eyes were staring at his ceiling, a violin rested in his hands in an akward angel. I crawled through the open window.

He didn't even look up. "I'm assuming you are the lady caller John was insisting I go see."

"Good guess."

"I never guess."

"Me either."

He observed me closely, I could tell he was figuring me out pretty easily. He rolled off the couch. "Why do you have a man's wallet?"

"Why haven't you slept in three days?" I countered, noting the circles under his eyes and his untrimed beard, plus he smelled kind of funny.

"Four."

"Close enough." I gave him a small smile.

"If you're an idiot." He said without emotion.

"Oh go change your four day old socks."

I leaned against the wall, which for whatever reason was filled with bullet holes. We were surveying each other closely. The last memory I had of my cousin was of us playing "Clue" and him getting so angry at Mycroft he punched him in the nose. What a Thanksgiving that had been.

"I still think you're being a stuck up pri…" The blonde haired man from beforea came into the room shaking his head. When he saw me he stopped in his tracks.

"Hiya." I smiled.

The man opened and closed his mouth several times before answering. "Hi…I'm…I'm John Watson."

"Jade, Jade Holmes."

Sherlock's face was stony, but his eyes showed a slight amount of surprise. John Watson's jaw dropped. "Are you two…how are…?"

"He stutters a lot, doesn't he?" I laughed.

"Their cousins." A cold voice said from behind Watson. Mycroft stepped around Watson slowly.

"I thought I told you to stay home." He demanded.

"No you asked if you could trust me. I advised you against and you didn't listen."

A small smile finally played over Sherlock's face.

"Yes well, I won't make that mistake again I assure you." He said coldly.

I took a step forward and stared into his cold brown eyes. I looked from Sherlock, to Watson, to Mycroft, and said what any Holmes would have.

"Brilliant."


	2. Walking in the rain

Mycorft's whole face was forming into one big mass of anger and rage. I pulled Sherlock's violin into my lap.

"No." Sherlock said shortly, grabbing it out of my hands.

I looked at Mycroft's angry face. It was completely laughable. "I told you, I just wanted to visit my cousin."

"Your mother expressed her feelings about you seeing him."

"Well my mother," I picked up a magnifying glass and peered through it, "is a little….um…what's the opposite of sane?" I twirled the glass in my hand.

"No." Sherlock yanked it out of my hand again.

"Show respect for your elders." Mycroft demanded.

"Why? When they act years younger than me." I picked up a jar of what looked like eyeballs and shook it. I shot Mr. John Watson a "what the hell?" look. Sherlock pulled it away from me.

"No."

"This is ridiculus. I'm calling your mother, you're going back to America." Mycroft said crossly. It was an empty threat, I could see it in his eyes.

"Oh don't be stupid." I said, earning a wide eyed look from Mycroft.

"How is that…?" He started in his usual whiney voice.

"I can out run you, dear. You used to smoke three packs a day, you're in your late thirties, and you haven't run in years." I started examining Sherlock's collection of books.

"She's just like you." Watson pointed out with half a laugh. "Deduction, and she's a complete smart ass."

"It wasn't deduction it was remembering family events Mycroft used to smoke at, remembering birthdays, and look at him John. Do you really think he's jogged more than a block in the past ten years. No!"

He slapped one of the books out of my hands. It hit the floor with a loud thud. I gave him a dirty look. The tension between us began growing.

"Same old Jade, must you touch everything?" He demanded.

"Same old Jade? I was four Sherlock!"

"You kept taking my stuff."

"You were eighteen!"

"What's that got to do with anything?"

"You're unbelievable!"

"You're an immature brat."

We looked at each other hard for a breif second. Our eyes held menancingly, behind us Mycroft sighed. "This is exactly what your mother was afraid of. You two are so much a like you butt heads at every turn."

"We are not the same!" Both of us shouted at the same time. The tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife.

"Whatever." I shoved pass Sherlock angrily. I could hear Mycroft and Mr. Watson starting to protest, but I was back out on the fire escape before either one of them could stop me. I climbed my way to the top of the building. The fire escape didn't seem nearly as frightening when I was pissed off.

Mycorft was yelling at me from below, but I didn't feel like climbing back down. There was going to be Hell to pay, no doubt Mycroft would call my mother. Sherlock certainly hadn't been worth a grounding. I found a nice ledge to sit on and perched myself careful on it. My feet dangled off the sides. I loved heights, it was the easiest place to clear the mind.

I knew that Mycroft's house was a dud. I didn't belong there, so far I didn't belong anywhere. Mom said that was why I liked backpacks because I always wanted to travel. I didn't mind not belonging anywhere. Sometimes it just got lonely.

I heard Mycroft swearing at the shakey fire escape. His sasquatch feet made loud clanging noises as they tried to tip toe over carefully across the rusty grate.

"You're going to hurt yourself." I called down to him.

"Get down here this second!" Mycroft shouted.

I stood up and casually brushed myself off. I had a better idea. My family, for lack of a better term, sucked the big one so I was simply leaving. I just had to keep Mycroft long enough to jump railings back to his house and get my stuff. All I had to do was give him an impossible task.

"Make Sherlock apologize and I'll be right down." I called.

Mycroft's silence told me it was the perfect time to get going. I looked the sandwhich shop building and jumped carefully onto its roof. My feet hit it with a light thud.

I continued hoping building tops until I was well out 221 B Baker Street's sight. I slid down another building fire escape. Mycroft's house only a few blocks away.

I stuffed my hands into my pockets and pulled my sweatshirt hood over my head. I didn't know if Mycroft had figured out I was gone or not. I didn't want to take the chance of him catching up to me.

I found Mycroft's less the welcoming apartment and walked through the front door. None of my stuff had been unpacked because it had only taken me a day to realize I was living with an idiot. I slung one of my many bookbags, packed with enough supplies for a week, over my shoulder. My favorite one, my dad's.

My dad vanished in London. The news had covered the story for weeks, they stuck their cameras in my mom's and my face, a girl of fourteen. Where was The Great Sherlock then?

It didn't matter, none of it did. I was going looking for my dad, or at least answers. Somebody knew. Somebody always knew.

The doorknob rattled, and Mycroft was in the room so fast I hardly had time to do a quick hop through the window I had jumped out of hours before. Mycroft's red face appeared in the window, but I was already gone.

I padded across the wet sidewalk. My mind was set, there was only one problem. I had no clue where or how to start. I needed evidence, something to go off of. I needed to break into the police station.

"This is the best vacation ever." I smiled.

I pulled my hood back over my head. The rain which so often started and stopped had started again.

I saw the police station on the way into London, a big tall glass building. But it was on the way other end of town, and I had no cab money at all.

What a walk this was going to be.


	3. Sherlock's biggest fangirl

Two hours of walking.

It took me two hours to walk across london and dodge Mycroft. I forgot Mycroft was practically the Queen of England himself. I called him Queen completely on purpose. He sure PMSed like a Queen.

I ducked into a small store as a police car whizzed pass in a hurry to find…well me. The store keeper gave me an odd look from behind his counter. I smiled at him. "Sorry been jogging. Needed a break." I pretended to be winded and bent over.

"You've been out jogging in jeans? On purpose?" He asked curiously.

"Wanted a challenge?" I tried.

He squinted his eyes. He was examining my face so closely I almost slapped him. "Can I help you, sir?" I asked as rudely as I could.

"Have I seen you before, kid?" He was an aging man, with hair on the sides of his head, but not on the top. I gave him my best Holmes smile.

"You have probably seen my cousin before. We look a like." I pulled a deerstalker off one of the hat racks and winked at him. "Thanks for the hat." I flipped it on my head.

The police station was across the street. I examined the building, hoping to find an inconspicuous entry, but there was no such luck.

I could always walk through the front door. I felt like I had gone through enough windows for one day. I shoved the door open slowly, considerng I was now a wanted cousin I had to be slightly careful.

"Oh no." A man with gray hair came out of an offical looking office. "No, no. Absolutely not I won't stand for another one."

He was dressed in dress pants, and clean shoes, aside from a few scuffs on them where he had tripped on the stairs and caught himself at last second. He had scrapes on his hands and palms. His wallet was located in side pocket, his ID was clipped on the inside of his jacket. Gregory Lestrade.

I must have had a horrified look on my face because he stopped abruptly. I stared at him coldly at first until he continued his idiotic rambling. "I do not want another Sherlock Holmes poking their little noses in police business."

My cousin was slowly becoming my ticket to freedom. I put on my best fan girl face. "Oh please sir?! Just one look at him! Pleasepleasepleaseplease?" I threw myself at the poor man as if in a hurry to see my stupid cousin. My hand slid into his jacket, I unclipped his Id carefully, and when he yanked me off him I managed to pull out his wallet.

Give me a break I had no money on me.

He held me by the shoulders and shook me. "Listen kid, he's not even here right now. Go home."

"Do you know when he'll be in?" I asked flustered.

"No. Now get out!" He snapped.

"Oh come on!" He gave me an unyielding look. I sighed. "Can I at least use the bathroom?" He raised his eyebrows. "Come on where am I going to go? I gotta pee!"

He finally nodded.

"Thanks."

He pointed down a long hallway and told me it was the third door on the left. I gave him a small smile. He blinked several times. "Have I seen you before?"

"Doubt it!" I called over my shoulder. I almost skipped down the hallway I was so thrilled. I was about to have info on my father, Mycroft would never think to look in the police station for me, and Sherlock… I slid the card key through its slot… had literally opened doors for me.

I found a small computer in a secluded room. I slid into the rolling chair, which any other day would have entertained me for hours. I began punching in the song of my people.

Aka hackers.

Information began popping up left and right. I kept looking cautiously over my shoulder. One wrong move and I was in an enormous trouble. I sifted through the information until I found I was looking for. I grinned.

"And print."

I twirled in my chair. Sherlock was leaning casually against the office wall.

"Whoamygosh!" I fell out of the chair.

"I can't tell if you think I'm as dull as you, or if you're just generally that stupid." He put his hands in his pockets and took a menacing step forward. I grabbed the papers spitting out of the printer and jammed them in my pockets.

"I don't want to hurt you, Sherlock." I said carefully, inching towards the door.

"Ah there it is. Stupidity." He smirked.

Now I did want to hurt him.

Mad as I was I didn't forget the first rule of fighting. Don't rush.

"If you don't rush me," Sherlock raised his eyebrows, "you'll be surrounded in a matter of minutes."

He was right, time wasn't on my side. I pulled my hat off my head as if in surrender, and when that arrogant bastard smirked I threw it at his face. He caught it, but at a price. I head butted his gut. He let out a painful grunt.

As a little kid Sherlock and I had tussled before, but nothing like what we were doing now. I swung my fist, and he countered with right arm block. He kicked and I spun it around. And to my surprise he was laughing.

"Good, good." He swung a right hook, I barely managed to block. To the untrained eye we were merely wrestling, which was completely untrue. We were doing a series of trained martial arts movements. Until Sherlock sat on me.

"Get off!" I wheezed.

"Nope."

"You're going to break my ribs!"

"Good."

"Unbelievable."

"Immature brat."

Lestrade came running in behind us. His face was bright red, he bent over clutching his knees.

"That girl…that girl was…"

"Is. Is my cousin. Don't use the tense Lestrade, it's very unbecoming."

"I'm going to be a was if you don't GET OFF!"

Sherlock wiggled his butt farther into my back. I grunted in pain. "You. Are. So. Fat." It was a lie, Sherlock was quite thin, but my back was breaking.

"Oh you'll live."

Lestrade was reaching for something at his waist.

Handcuffs.

"Oh, Mycroft would." I struggled under my cousin's weight. I couldn't go back to the states, not with out knowing what happened. I had one chance. It had always worked when I was a kid.

I pinched Sherlock's leg as hard as I could, and was rewarded with a girlish shriek. I rolled out from under him. Lestrade made a mad lunge at me. I side stepped him, grabbed the handcuffs out of his hands, and held on to them just incase. I grabbed the key out of his pocket and ran out the door.

Sherlock was running behind me. I pushed desks, papers, anything my hands could grab over on the way out. I knew it wouldn't take long for my cousin's stronger stride to over take mine. I pushed pass a crowd of people, and Sherlock burst through behind me.

"Leave me alone!" I shouted like a little kid.

Sherlock didn't take the hint. He was beginning to catch me, I rounded a corner and ducked into an alley. Sherlock swung around the corner with me. I did the only thing I could think of. I dropped like a ton of bricks.

Sherlock sail over me as his foot caught on my ribs. He crashed painfully a foot away. I pulled Lestrade's handcuffs out of my pocket and slapped them around Sherlock's wrists behind his back. He stood up quickly. I took a step back.

"Will you just listen to me?" I snapped at him. He said nothing, we both just glared at each other. I knew one of us had to yield, and I had a bad feeling I knew who it was. "Sherlock, please? I just want to know what happened to my dad and then I'm gone. I swear. I don't need anyone's help just a place to stay."

Sherlock said nothing. I threw the keys at him, he caught them easily. The cuffs dangled off his left wrist. He unlocked it.

"Mycroft's already order half of London's government after you. He's convinced you're going back to America in chains."

"What are you convinced of Sherlock?" I mumbled. "We can chase each other round England for the rest of the summer if you want, but I'm not going back willingly."

Sherlock took several steps forward, I took a step back. "Oh stop it. If I wanted to give you back to Mycroft you'd be going back by now."

"So I can stay with you?" I said hopefully.

"As long as you stay interesting my dear cousin."


	4. Doc's confusion

Sherlock made me give the hat back.

He kept repeating over and over how ridiculus it looked. I had grown attached to it, but let him lead me into the store and return it. Sherlock was being an absolute grump the whole time the store keeper kept gawking at him. I giggled at him.

"Shut up." He hissed.

"Did I say anything?" He stalked away from me angrily. "I didn't say anything."

I followed him out in a hurry. I stood on his right side, trying to hide from the road. I was grateful for his height. He noticed I was hiding besides him and laughed.

"Oh stop cowering."

I looked into his icy blue eyes. He didn't blink. "Your stupid brother is still after me." I crouched down beside him to tie my shoe as a cop car went pass.

"Yes, Mycroft might be a problem to both of us." He stopped long enough to take me by the shoulders, he turned me away from the street as another cop car went pass.

"When will they stop looking?" I asked more irraitated than anything else.

"When you are on a plane back to America. Mycroft's annoying like that." He stopped suddenly and pulled my arm under his nose. "You're bleeding."

"Yeah well, you have a good right hook."

"Right hooks don't cause bleeding, they cause bruising." He observed.

I shrugged. "I feel out of a window. What do you care?"

He released my arm and we started walking again. "I just want to make sure if you're living with me you won't waste all my medical supplies."

We walked in silence for a long period of time. Sherlock kept his eyes carefully trained on the road. The way his eyes moved, the way he took everything in, was fascinating to me. I watched him observe different people, and how his eyes traced each of them carefully, but quickly. I was watching my cousin to closely because I crashed into a buildings post.

"Oof." I fell backwards onto my butt. Sherlock snickered.

"Clutz."

"Yeah well I'm hungry." I said defensively. In America our stomach affected our brains, I didn't know if that was how it worked in England, but I hadn't eaten in since breakfast yesterday. Mostly to spite Mycroft. I stood up and brushed myself off. The building I crashed into looked like an English bakery. My stomach yelled at me. I pushed the door open.

Sherlock followed me inside and crossed his arms. I knew he wouldn't pay, and I wasn't about to ask him for anything. I pulled out Lestrades wallet and leafed through it. Fifty pounds stared back at me. I smiled.

Score.

I bought a donut, a glass of milk, and another donut. The smallest of smiles creeped across Sherlock's face, and I knew he reconginized the wallet. I bought him some tea.

We sat by the window, and I attacked my two donuts mercilessly. I tuned the rest of the world out. When ever I ate I went into "Jade's Happy Thinking Palace". It was the best way for me to think without being up high. I was aware of Sherlock watching me closely.

"Don't judge me, Sherlock."

"Did Mycroft neglect to feed you while you were staying with him?"

"He told me if I ate something I'd probably be less bitchy." I tore into the donut with my front teeth.

"So you stopped eating just to spite him?"

"Yep." I said with my mouth full of deliciousness.

Sherlock did his little smile again and took a small sip of tea. I found myself enjoying my cousin's company for the first time in my life.

"Mycroft said you used to pull that with him too?" I asked carefully.

Sherlock nodded slowly and took another sip of tea. "I moved out of my parents house at around your age. I went to live with Mycroft, and he become irritated with some of my habbits. So I began using them to annoye him." He gave his cup a dirty look like it was Mycroft. "Moron."

I laughed at the way he said it. Sherlock said nothing, he finished his tea and pulled me off my empty donut wrapper. Which I was licking insanely. Sherlock hailed a cab.

I sat in silence next to him before getting the courage to ask him if he remembered anything about my dad. He sighed. "Of course I do. I was eighteen when I last saw him."

"Was he…an okay dude?" I asked at first I was trying to be silly, but when he turned to look at me I fell silent.

"Honestly child, how do you not remember your own father?" He said sniddly.

I had forgotten. Mom hadn't told anyone I suffered from PTSD. It was a secret she had kept since my dad vanished. I had repressed most of the memories about him. I regained my compsure and shrugged. "Just trying to get a second opinion. Not everyone is a moron you know."

"Mm, that's what most morons say."

I smiled at his abuse because it was how I thought. My mother used to tell me detectives stories and after all the suspects had been listed I knew who it was. She had told me I was going to be a regular Holmes some day. After meeting Mycroft I wasn't sure that was much of a compliment. I brought my legs up to my chest and closed my eyes. I was tired.

The car pulled up to 221 B Baker street about five minutes later, and it was all I could do to climb the stairs. Sherlock put the key in the lock and turned it. We both walked in.

"Right, if you're not going to answser your phone tell Mycroft to stop texting mine." Mr. John Watson came around the corner ready for an argument. "I don't even think he's worried about your cousin. I think he just wants to prove he's better…isn't that your cousin?" He pointed a finger at me.

I smiled at him warmly. "Hello, Mr. John Watson."

He gaped from me to Sherlock for a breif second. "How?…Why?...it's Dr. John Watson." He said in defeat.

"Hello Mr. Dr. John Watson." I said with a yawn.

Sherlock flopped down into a couch with such force the couch let a groan of protest. I followed suit in a comfy looking chair. Mr. Dr. John Watson looked at the two Holmes cousin with both amusement and annoyance.

"Sherlock, no offense to your cousin, but she's wanted by the English government for questioning." He flopped in a chair across from me.

"No she's wanted by Mycroft for deporting. Really John don't believe everything my loving brother tells you."

Dr. Watson opened his mouth, but closed it again. I smiled at him. "I promise I'm not an evil villian, Doc." I liked him, he seemed cute, in a helplessly, clueless sort of way.

Sherlock snorted. I stuck my tongue out at him, he rolled his eyes. Doc stood behind us, clearly confused. "So she's going back to Mycroft then?"

"Now why would I give my favorite little cousin to that wolf?" Sherlock said saracastically. I curled up into a small ball and shut my eyes.

"I'm staying with you guys for the summer." I said with a yawn.

Doc's eye widened. He shot Sherlock a look, to which Sherlock replied with raised eyebrows. "So we're basically hiding a wanted criminal?"

Sherlock strode over to Doc, and put his hand on Doc's shoulders. "Now John, is that any way to talk about family?" He gave his shoulder a final pat before pulling a computer off the shelf and sitting back down with it.

I heard Doc sigh heavily. "It's going to be a long summer."

I fell asleep shortly after.


	5. ICE CREAM!

Doc and I were fast friends.

He liked talking about his war stories, and I liked to hear them. He liked giving medical advice, and I liked hurting myself. Well sort of.

I had finally fallen through the fire escape and given my criminal status going to the hosipital was out of the question. Doc was examining me careful.

"You can use the door you know. It's why they make doors."

"Fire escape's more interesting." He dabbed at a cut on my cheek with proxihide. I flinched under his gentle pressure. "Ow."

"Yeah well be thankful you didn't shatter your wrist." He said smartly. My shoulder ached horribly. I managed to twist around mid air and smash the poor thing into concrete. Doc should have said I was lucky a cop didn't find me before he did. Doc had picked me up and carried me back inside. "Did you find anything else today?" he started examining my shoulder.

"All Scotland Yard says is he's deceased, the file is classified, and was sent to the United States FBI agency." I grimaced painfully as Doc pushed my shoulder back into its socket. I gripped the couch so hard my nail dug through to cotton. I shook my head with tears of pain in my eyes. "Damn that hurt." I mumbled. Doc made a sling out of an old belt and helped my put my left arm in it.

"So maybe you should go back to the states." He said gently. "You could break into the FBI agency instead of Scotland Yard." He smiled jokingly.

"Nah, Doc. I'm not ever going back." I smiled a little through tears. My shoulder made me want to faint. "I'm staying in Europe."

"Jayden," Doc was the only one I let call me by my full name, "Sherlock said he'd let you stay for the summer. I don't think he'd let you any stay longer."

It had been a week after I had convinced Sherlock to let me stay for the summer. I shrugged with my good shoulder. "I wouldn't ask him to, Doc. I just want to find out more about my dad and then I'm gone."

Doc stood up and started washing his hands almost agressively. I stand up, careful not to disturb my new sling. "You're angry." I said a little surprised.

"You're family is so…" He shook his head. "Nothing."

"So what?" I took step towards Sherlock's book collection. I hadn't read anything in much too long.

"Nothing. Let it die." He said crossly.

"Oh, John, I insist you finish your thought." Sherlock appeared in the doorway with a riding crop and a thing of ice cream. I didn't even bother asking. Sometimes it's better not to ask about Sherlock's methods.

"ICE CREAM!" I jumped at my cousin, who held the bucket over his head. I jumped up and down with my good arm grasping at the air. I wasn't short, I stood at a proud 5'5. It was Sherlock's six foot that had me beat. "Curse your height!"

He held out his hand and held me an arms length away from him by my forehead. "Come on Sherlock!" I growled.

"Shouldn't you be looking through files? Tick tock dear cousin, the summer's dwindling away." I took a swing at him with my good arm. He dodged easily.

"Jayden watch your shoulder." Doc snapped at both of us. I had been leaning all my weight into Sherlock's open palm so when he let go I want flying pass him. I flew into the door. Sherlock snickered.

"Great Sherlock." Doc pulled me up carefully and examined my shoulder. I brushed him off.

"I'm fine." I eyed the bucket of chocolate ice cream in Sherlock's hand.

"For God's sake just give her the ice cream." John rolled his eyes.

"Finish your thought first. I'm ssooo interested."

John sighed. "Annoying. Your family seems to be at war with each other at all times. You and Mycroft. Jade and Mycroft. You and Jade."

"I wouldn't be at war with her if she quits eating all the ice cream." We were eyeing each other menacingly again. In Sherlock's defense I had devored all his ice cream in a week. But in my defense it was the only thing I had eaten in a week.

"Sherlock, did you know about her "plans" after the summer?" He demanded.

I cut my black eyes towards him and shook my head. I gave him the "I'll kill you in your sleep" look. "Don't, Doc."

"She's just leaving. An eighteen year old kid alone in Europe." He squared off with me.

"Good. At least then I'll have balance restored to my eating habbits."

"Sherlock, she's just a kid!"

I shook my head. This is what happened when I got close to people, they interfered. The called me a kid and told me I couldn't do anything. It was why I prefered to be alone.

"Nonsense. She's a Holmes girl, leave her be if she wants to go."

Doc looked like he had been punched in the stomach. I gaped at Sherlock, I didn't expect him to be on my side. I didn't expect him to be so dismissive of the subject either.

Sherlock made his way to the counter and pulled open a drawer. He grabbed two spoons out and threw me one. I caught it with my good arm. Doc just stared at him. "Sherlock?"

Sherlock put his riding crop aside and popped open the ice cream bin. I looked at him apprehensively.

"New rule. John seems worried about your lack of eating so if you want a bowl of ice cream you must agree to eat a thing of fruit either after or before." He stuck his spoon into the chocolately goodness. I walked over to the man I was now convinced was my favorite cousin. I stuck my spoon in next to his.

"Deal."

We eat probably more than we should have, and Doc gave Sherlock the stink eye the whole time. I felt bad for him. I nudged him playfully at the expense of my shoulder. He didn't say anything.

I nudged him again.

Nothing.

Sherlock nudged him. His face was turning red.

I nudged him. He started smiling.

Sherlock gave me a smile nod, and we both sandwhiched him between our shoulders. Doc started cracking up. "Alright, alright. God you Holmes." He shook his head.

I stuck the spoon on my nose and wiggled my ears. Doc started laughing to the point where he had to excuse himself to pee. Sherlock rolled his eyes and called me a moron.

That's how I knew he thought it was funny.

Sherlock yawned and went into his room. My belly was happy from all the choclate it had consumed, but true to my word I pulled an apple out of the fridge and bit into it. It didn't taste awful. Doc came back into the room.

"Good God you're eating."

I shrugged. "I made a promise so I kept it." I chewed the apple slowly. I picked up Sherlock's laptop, and punched in my username. Sherlock was right, I needed to work on my dad's case. Doc spun into the kitchen seat besides me. I turned the screen away from him. He noticed.

"What are you doing on there?" He reached for the computer.

"I wouldn't get your fingerprints on this." I said only half joking.

He paused for a second before deciding I was kidding and turned it towards him. FBI classifieds popped up in the reflections of his eyes. I could tell it was all he could do not to throw the computer across the room.

He swallowed. "You've hacked…"

"Yep."

"Does Sherlock know?"

"Yep."

"And he gave you premission to…"

"Yep."

I pulled the computer back into my lap. I wasn't doing anything TO illegal. I was just searching through files for my dad. Doc was turning 50 shades of pale. "Told you not to touch it." I grinned at him.

Doc frowned at me like a father getting ready to scold his daughter. I blushed and looked away from him. The least thing I wanted was to find a father figure in Doc.

There was loud crash from Sherlock's room, and John sprang up so fast he almost knocked the laptop out of my hand. I closed the lid and ran after him. My heart was beating heavily in my chest as I threw myself into Sherlock's room. Sherlock sat on the floor his ankles chained together tightly, and his wrists handcuffed behind him. I blinked at my cousin several times.

"Kinky."

"Shut up." He said calmly for a man chained up.

"What happened?" I demanded. I thought my cousin may have been jumped, that crash had been his window breaking and his captors had fled when Doc ran into the room.

"Nothing." He sounded annoyed with himself. "I kicked the dresser over that's all."

"I meant about your latest fashion statement."

Doc rolled his eyes and started to explain. "He's practicing. He can get out of just about any kind of cuffs now, it's just this type that is giving him trouble."

I smiled at him. "Are they fuzzy Sherlock?" I teased.

"Will you both just go. I need to think."

I bent down next to my cousin, who tried to shoulder me away. I scoffed at him, and took his chained wrists in my hand. I gave him a confused look.

Suddenly the doorbell rang. Doc said he'd get it and left the room. I continued to stare at Sherlock.

"This brand is easy to get out of." I informed him.

"If it were easy to be out of, I'd be out." He tried again to shoulder me, but I side stepped. I took my arm out of my sling and grabbed his wrists again.

"Okay watch." I twisted his wrists in a certain pattern, just like my dad showed me. They clattered to the ground. Sherlock stared at me for a second.

"Do that again."

I let him handcuff my hands behind me, to which my shoulder greatly protested. I twisted my wrists slowly so he could watch, and they tumbled once again to the floor. I rubbed my aching shoulder.

Sherlock unchained his ankles with the same pattern I showed him. "See, easy."

Sherlock made me rechain his wrists together. I didn't want to hurt my cousin so I didn't tighten them as hard as any normal advisary would have, as Sherlock pointed out. I shrugged, "I'm not going to hurt you, Sherlock."

Sherlock scowled, and tightened them himself. I put my arm back in its sling. "Sherlock." A commanding voice came from the front door.

"Mycroft." Sherlock and I said together. I threw myself under Sherlock's bed. My lord and master's fancy shoes appeared in Sherlock's door. I cowered farther under his bed.

I could hear Sherlock struggling to recreate the pattern I had showed him. "Can't you see I'm busy, Mycroft?" Sherlock said coolily.

"Lestrade informed me today that just week ago you chased our little cousin out of his police station. Care to elborate." He said coldly.

"I think you've got it pretty much summed up there dear brother." Sherlock had stopped struggling against his bonds. I wondered if both men were staring at each other.

"Her mother wants he back, Sherlock. If you know anything…"

"If I knew anything I'd tell you, of course. She ducked out of my line of sight and I lost her." Sherlock twisted the pattern against the cuffs and they fell for the third time to the floor. I heard him rise, and saw his hands rubbing circulation back into his wrists.

"Sherlock, if you are with holding information from me, I assure you I'll put you in handcuffs far tighter than these pathetic toys." Mycroft's voice made me want to punch him. He had no right to talk to Sherlock like he was worthless. Sherlock sounded used to it.

"When will you ever learn to trust me, Mycroft?"

"When you start being honest with me, little brother." Mycroft feet were scuffling on the floor. "It would be easier on both of you if you just turned her over to me."

"I don't have her." Sherlock's voice was suddenly cold.

"There are three spoons in the sink, a hole in your fire escape, and Mrs. Hudson made a comment of how much extra food you were buying. Particularly ice cream. I know you want to believe the rest of the world are idiots, but some of us may surprise you. Turn her over to me right now, and I'll get her cleared of all charges."

"How can I return something I don't have?" Sherlock said calmly. "And she can't have charges, she never broke the law. Good day, Mycroft." I heard Sherlock slam the door, and for the first time I realized just how bad my shoulder was hurting. I placed my cheek against the cool wooden floor and felt myself drifting out of consciousness.

I crawled out slowly, Sherlock was leaning against his door with an expression of loathing on his face. I was starting to sweat bullets.

"Hey Sherlock," he turned to look at me. "I think you should grab Doc for me." And without I pass out on my cousin's bed.


	6. I trust you

I woke up in Sherlock's bed with his blankets pulled neatly over me.

They smelt like him.

I fought the urge to pull the blankets over my head, and fall back to sleep. I rolled out of Sherlock's bed carefully. My shoulder screamed at me.

I groaned quietly. I walked to the bedroom door and put my head on it. I could hear voices coming thorugh door.

"…needs a hosipital." Doc's voice.

"You know she can't go there." Sherlock's.

"I know she doesn't want to go there Sherlock, but you need to think of what's best for her." Doc's voice sounded pleading.

"You want me to give her back to Mycroft." Sherlock said shortly.

"Why is that such a bad thing?" Doc demanded.

I heard the sound of footsteps walking across the floor. There was a small rumaging sound and the faint rattling of a bottle. I begged my cousin in silence not to show Doc. I heard Doc give a small intake of breath.

Antidepressants. A strong dose.

Thank you PTSD.

"But if you think she would be better off in a hosipital or back in America then go wake her up John." Sherlock flopped down into a chair.

"I didn't know…" Doc's voice trailed off.

"Of course you didn't. She didn't tell you." He was plucking at his violin. At that moment I hated my cousin for being so smart. I hated him for telling Doc I was basically a nut. I sat down on Sherlock's bed and ran a hand through my long hair. I missed my dad.

I heard the door open slowly. Doc's face peered in, he smiled. "How are you feeling?"

I put my face in my hands. "Tired."

"How's the shoulder?"

"Fine."

"What's wrong?" His voice was careful, like anything he said would send me sprialing into depression. I was going to kill Sherlock.

"Nothing." I lay back down on the bed. I curled into a ball with my back to Doc. I heard the door close behind me. I stood up.

I thought I found a home on 221 B Baker Street, but I was clearly wrong. I opened Sherlock's window, ready to once again make a run for it. That's when a strong arm circled around my waist. Doc was pulling me away from the window.

"Sherlock!" He shouted. I struggled against him viciously. Okay not that viciously, I didn't want to hurt him. I thrashed as gently as I could against his grip. "Sherlock! You were right!"

Sherlock was already standing the room. Doc turned me around so I could face him. I felt rage surge through me. "Why don't you just give me to Mycroft? You already think I'm nuts!" I shouted abuse at my cousin until I exhausted myself. Doc's grasp of restraint become a gentle hug.

I couldn't have stopped crying if I wanted to. "You didn't have to tell him, Sherlock." I liked Doc, I didn't want him to know I was certifiably insane.

"Jade," Doc said gently, "you're not anymore nutters than Sherlock or me. Did Sherlock ever tell you about the time we visited Buckingham Palace and he forgot his pants."

I cried into Doc's shoulder. I felt him rubbing my good shoulder comfortingly. I let myself indulge in his comfort for a few seconds before I gently pulled myself away from him. Sherlock had said nothing until that point. "Still want to go back with Mycroft?" He said curtly.

I looked at my barefeet. "You know I don't."

"Then stop boring me, and use your head." Sherlock said shortly. I nodded slowly. Doc wrapped his arms around me one last time.

"It's okay, it's okay." Looking at Sherlock I didn't believe a word Doc said.

I went back to bed after much urging from Doc. He gave me some medicine, and I slept for another day and a half. But all good things must come to an end.

I burried my head in Sherlock's pillow. I could smell his cologne. I breathed in my cousin's scent. I wanted to move, I had to move. I rolled out of Sherlock's bed. I yanked the sling off, it was only getting in my way.

Doc was sitting in his favorite reading chair with a newspaper pressed closely to his face. He looked up when he heard the door close. He gave me a small half smile, and closed his newspaper. "Feeling any better?"

I nodded. "I feel bored."

Doc laughed at that. He put his paper aside. I looked around the room. "Where's Sherlock?"

Doc stood up slowly. "He went out, he needs time to think."

"Because of me." I said miserably.

"No, because he's Sherlock."

"Yeah okay." I said quietly. We both stayed in an akward silence for what seemed like hours.

"So you know all your war stories?"

Doc nodded.

"I bet you'd be pretty good at a war game."

I explained the rules that my best friends and I had made up back in America. Luckily I had brought the bookbag with my paintball blowdarts. I handed him his and he picked red as his color. I picked blue.

"So the person who takes a vital shot loses?"

"Yep."

"Anything else doesn't count?"

"You are correct sir!"

"Ten paces then."

Doc and I took ten steps away from each other. Doc turned, but I was smart enough to duck behind a couch as a paintball whizzed above me. I returned fire. Paintballs whizzed everywhere, the crashed into walls, bookshelves, a weird skull thing, everything Sherlock and Doc owned was being repainted. But we were much to focused on shooting each other to care.

"Taste my leaded paint!" I shouted. Doc dove behind a chair.

"Die, child!" Red paint splattered behind me.

"What the Hell?" Sherlock walked through the door. Immediately our instincts kicked in and Sherlock was greeted with red and blue paint. Both Doc and I froze.

Sherlock blinked through the blue paint, which I had sucessfully nailed him with. He used his sleeve to wipe it out of his eyes. Doc started giggling.

"Well Sherlock's ou…"

I shot him in the heart with a blue paintball. He looked at me with mock anger. "That was low Jayden."

I would have laughed uncontrolably if Sherlock's face hadn't been turning dark red. "Jayden Grace Holmes."

"Oh…busted."

"You are so beyond grounded." He hissed.

"Sherlock I know you're angry, but listen to me when I say…Doc started it!"

"What?" Doc said surprised.

"Yep. It was all his idea to play WAR!." I shouted the last word. Doc's eye twitched.

"You are going down." Doc shot me in the face. I gave a small grunt of surprise and fell against my cousin. Sherlock yanked the blowdart out of my hand.

"Enough, enough. You're both acting like children, and I won't stand for…Holmeses against Wastons!" Sherlock shot Doc full in the face. I grabbed my bag and threw him a green blowdart gun. And the war continued.

Sherlock took several shots to the chest, Doc kept getting splattered in the face, and I was shooting and laughing like a mad woman. Doc finally ran out of ammo and grabbed Sherlock in a headlock. I was having the absolute time of my life.

Until Mycroft walked into the room.

Sherlock reacted before I did. He shot Mycroft in the eyes before he even had a foot in the door. Sherlock grabbed my arm and shoved me out onto the fire escape. For the first time since I had met my cousin he was grinning ear to ear. "Watch the hole. I've always wanted to shoot Mycroft."

Mycroft grumbled angrily as he came into the room. "When I said your flat needed repainting this isn't what I meant."

Doc threw Sherlock's laptop into the fridge of all places. I was glad he had been smart enough to ditch evidence of me being there. Sherlock handed him a towel while Doc threw me my back pack. Mycroft wiped the paint out of eyes.

Sherlock and Doc were trying not to crack up as Mycroft pulled the towel away from his eyes. "Grow up." He told his little brother.

Mycroft looked around the room, his eyes took everything in just like Sherlock's did. "Three colors of paint?" He raised his eyebrows.

"John ran out of ammo. He had to restock."

Mycroft touched the walls gingerly, and pulled away painted fingers. "Really? Because all the colors have the same consistancy."

Sherlock didn't even blink. "Alright Mycroft you've caught us. Mrs. Hudson was playing as well."

It was at that unforunate Mrs. Hudson decided to stick her head in and say hello to Mycroft. Sherlock raised the green the blowdart to his lips and fired. Mrs. Hudson went scrambling out of the room with green paint dripping down her chin. There was a small crashing sound suggesting that she hadn't gone down the stairs feet first.

"Sherlock! Oh, Mrs. Hudson it's just paint!" Doc went running after her.

Mycroft squared his shoulders challengingly at Sherlock. Sherlock simply shrugged and put his dart gun down. Mycroft continued to scan the room.

"What is it you want Mycroft?" He asked.

"My little cousin." Mycroft said calculating.

"I've already told you…"

"Enough." Mycroft raised a hand. "We've received notices from your computer, and unless you're willing to tell me you, yourself have been researching Jade's father…"

"My computer disappeared after Jade first showed up. Make a deduction." Sherlock stood inches from Mycroft's face.

"Well it seems she stole something from both of us then." He gave a small knowing smile. "She took a flash drive from me containing national secrets I'd like it back."

Sherlock said nothing at first he flopped in the couch next to Mycroft. "What would Jade want with national secrets?"

"Well think of who her father is, and you make a deduction." He said quietly.

"Jade's father is dead." He said as if he didn't believe his own words.

"Yes well that is what the American government wanted people to believe."

"Stop it, Mycroft." Sherlock snapped. "Jade is looking for him, not trying to give him national secrets."

"Is? My dear little brother present tense?" Mycroft took a step towards Sherlock. "Where is Jayden?" Mycroft was trying to get under Sherlock's skin.

Sherlock stood unblinking between my hiding place and Mycroft. "You can ask me as many times as you like, but if I don't know my answer won't change."

"Either give me our cousin or give me the drive, and I'll let the three of you live happily ever after."

Sherlock looked like had back at Thanksgiving. Trapped, as Mycroft unraveled the puzzle with ease.

But that's when he started smiling, and laughing of all things. He turned away from Mycroft as if it were too much. "I knew you wanted to prove you could out smart her, but coming here with a fake story, that's low. Even for you Mycroft." He threw himself onto a couch, and began plucking at his violin. "Try looking in Scotland, that's where her father disappeared after all."

I noted he said disappeared, not died.

"You have been researching him than." Mycroft said decidedly.

"It interested me." Sherlock said as if bored.

"Then you've figured out his family relationship to Father, am I correct?" Sherlock continued to say nothing, his fingers plucked the strings of his violin carefully. "I need that drive Sherlock."

He said nothing.

Mycroft took a deep breath. "Please."

Sherlock's hands froze on the cords, he gave his brother a strange look before returning to his music. "I'll get you the drive back, if you leave Jade alone. She doesn't want to be found, and she's no bother to you. Other than the fact that she out smarted you."

Mycroft stiffened. "And what would you have me tell her mother?"

"She ran away, out smarted your best agents, and left you standing uselessly in the dust."

At the moment I loved my cousin more than life itself. But I'd never tell him that.

Mycroft scowled. "Drive back by the end of tomorrow, and I'll consider it."

Sherlock laughed to himself quietly. "I'll get you the drive, but you'll never find Jade on your own."

"And why is that dear brother?" Mycroft's words were like ice.

"Because she is better than you." Sherlock said each word slowly.

"Well, it seems like you know more about our cousin than I. Even if you haven't met her before." Mycroft stated knowingly. "Bring the drive to me by tomorrow night or I will be back with a warrant."

"I'm terrified." Sherlock said as if the very idea bored the crap out of him. Mycroft turned on his heel, he stalked away down the stairs. I didn't start breathing until Sherlock stuck his head out the window. He gave me the all clear. I crawled in carefully after him.

"You should have told me you had taken the drive." Sherlock grabbed my blowdart and threw it down.

I didn't say anything because I didn't know what to say. I stared at my cousin. "I didn't know what is was." I said finally. "I just needed a flash drive to save the information I found on my dad."

"Do you have it?" Sherlock asked not angrily, but certainly not happy. I grabbed my backpack off the fire escape and dug through the pockets. I pulled out a sleak black flash drive and pressed it into my cousins hand.

"What did he mean consider who my father is?" Sherlock turned the drive over in his hands. He put it in his pocket.

"Did you open any files on it?"

"No. Sherlock what…"

"You know they'll be able to tell if you have."

"Yeah. Sherlock…"

"They'll have reason to arrest you if…"

"Sherlock!" I shouted his name a little despreately. Sherlock held my gaze for a few seconds. I wanted to sit down. "Sherlock if you know something…"

"It's nothing that will help you find him." Sherlock said dismissively.

I stared at my cousin until I thought my eyeballs would fall out. I took a deep breath and said the last thing Sherlock was expecting. "Okay."

I could tell I caught even the great Sherlock Holmes off guard. "What?"

"I trust you." I said finally.

Sherlock blinked several times. I laughed at his expresion. Doc came bursting through door. "Okay she should be alright. I think she was more upset about her walls then anything else."

Sherlock and I were still staring at each other. My cousin in disbelief, and me with trust. Doc stopped in his tacks. "Did I miss something?"


	7. Taken

Three weeks after I convinced Sherlock to let me stay with him I began giving up on my dad.

I was sitting across from Doc with the computer on my lap. Doc had coffee in one hand and a newspaper in the other. Sherlock was out with Mycroft, trying to convince him he still hadn't found me. I didn't understand why Sherlock didn't simply give Mycroft his flash drive back. I had moved all my information onto an empty flash drive that Sherlock had.

Doc cleared his throat loudly. I continued ignoring him. He cleared his throat even more loudly. I frowned at him.

"Doc." I growled.

"Your hour's almost up." He replied through his paper.

"I've got five minutes left before the FBI's red flag goes up." I spun around in my chair. Doc was right, I needed to shut the computer down. I hit the power button. Doc smiled as I closed the top.

"There that's better, don't want the FBI busting down our front door."

Sherlock's keys clicked in the lock. I watched my older cousin come through door, his hands were stuffed deep in his pockets. I had learned in the past three weeks that meant he was annoyed, though his face showed nothing.

"Sherlock?"

He said nothing. Sometimes he went for days without saying anything, and it drove me nuts. He took his soaking wet coat off and hung it on the door. I watched him carefully. "What did Mycoft say?"

"Nothing, he's an idiot. Post John." Sherlock threw a bunch of mail on the table, but kept his hand on a specific envelope. Doc noticed.

"What's that?" He asked.

"For me." Sherlock said putting the envelope in his back pocket. John eyed it, so did I. Sherlock never hid mail, or at least not in front of us. Doc gave me a small smile.

"Jade, why don't you take you research into Sherlock's room and…"

"Yeah, yeah I know when I'm not wanted." I picked up my research into my arms and planted a small kiss on Doc's cheek. He laughed and watched as I made my way into Sherlock's room. I closed the door behind me.

I couldn't pretend I wasn't interested in Sherlock's letter. I cracked the door a little, it was quickly slammed shut. "Thanks Sherlock!" I shouted.

I lay down into my cousin's bed. I couldn't explain what he smelled like, or why I felt comforted whenever I smelt it. I pulled my research toward me.

My dad had vanished in Scotland, his body was never found, his occupation was never officially known, and he was often in contact with the British government. The only thing I managed to weasel out of Sherlock was that he was on a business trip when he vanished.

I blew my hair out of my face. Doc's voice was raising. "When did you get this?"

I didn't hear my cousins response, but Doc's voice was getting louder. "Sherlock, this is madness! She can't stay here! Jesus Christ, the danger is unbelievable." I heard springs in the chair squeak aggressively. I sat up in Sherlock's bed. I moved silently to his door and cracked it open.

"I know, John."

I thought Doc had been the one who sat down, but my cousin was sitting in the chair with his face in his hands. He ran them through his hair carefully. He looked tired.

Sherlock stood up slowly. Doc and him might eyes. "What do you want me to do, John?" He sound exhausted.

Doc stayed unbearably quiet for several seconds. He looked over to Sherlock's room and noticed the door was cracked. His frown lines increased. "Jade, you haven't run away on us again, have you?"

I opened the door a little farther. Sherlock and Doc both watched me closely. "I'm not going anywhere so quit looking at me like that." I snapped.

Doc pulled the letter off the counter top. "Show her." He said shortly.

Sherlock took it out of Doc's hands, and passed it slowly out. I grasped it delicately in my hands, I put my finger in and fished out a picture of…me? I took the picture between my fingers, there was a yellow slash through my eyes and a yellow 8 over my face, it had been taken when I was sitting on the fire escape. I looked at Sherlock. "What is it?"

"A death sentence." My body froze. I looked at Sherlock horrified as my eldest cousin stood in the doorway.

"Mycroft!" I stumbled back against Doc. Sherlock was staring straight at his brother.

"So much for letting me tell her first." He said quietly.

I looked between my two cousins, and turned to look at Doc. He was just as shocked as I was. I gulped. "Sherlock, did you call him?"

Sherlock nodded. "I received this letter yesterday. The Chinese organization, the Black Lotus, have taken John hostage before. Chances are high they'd take you too."

"Sherlock I'd be fine. Don't make me go back with him."

"I'm thinking of your safety." He said almost gently…for Sherlock.

"Sherlock…" I couldn't believe I was starting to cry. I had gotten used to living there, I had gotten soft. I liked waking up every morning and smelling Doc make coffee. I liked playing war games and solving minor "dull" cases with Sherlock. "I'd rather take my chances with you." I tried to stop my voice from cracking.

Doc cleared his throat. "Jade, it's not safe for you to stay here…"

"Why would I be safer with Mycroft?" I demanded. "Answer me that."

"You'd be safer back in America." Mycroft answered shortly.

"I'd rather die." I said coldly. Sherlock's mouth twitched a little like it didn't know if it should frown or smile.

"Well I hope you mean that." Sherlock said harshly. "Because stay in England and I promise you, you will die." His voice was cold and meant to be mean. "For God's sake Jayden, did you really think I wouldn't turn you over to Mycroft anyway. At the end of the summer you were as good as gone."

"Sherlock." Doc said in shock.

"Oh please, John. You knew it too, and I didn't see you running off to tell her." Sherlock's face was unreadable, but one thing I noticed, there wasn't a trace of pain in it. My tears stopped as I stared at my cousin's stone face.

I took a step away from Doc, away from my cousins, towards the window.

"Don't even think of it. I have agents at the bottom of that fire escape and the front door. You wouldn't get a foot." My heart began racing. I felt cornered, my therapist had warned me to watch my temper. My PTSD would become animal instinct if I wasn't careful.

"I hate you." I hissed at Sherlock.

"Get in line." He said roughly.

Mycroft cupped his hand on my shoulder, I shrugged him off rudely. I went into Sherlock's room, grabbed my bag and my research and stuffed it all together. I threw in all my clothes. I took his laptop. I figured Sherlock owed me that much.

I picked up each previously used blowdart and stuck them in my pack. I left the green laying on my cousin's bed. I didn't want it anymore.

Mycroft was watching me from the doorway. I kept packing because I hadn't decided what to do just yet. I surveyed Mycroft up and down, I knew he was probably telling the truth about having multiple agents at the bottom of the fire escape and front door.

I rolled my eyes at him as I walked pass. I saw Doc sitting with his face in his hands, while Sherlock was drawing his bow over his violin. The song sounded sad to me.

I stared at Doc sadly. I was going to miss Doc, I had wanted more time living in a house instead of on the streets, but it was clearly time to go. I gave Doc a small hug. He wrapped his arms around me miserably. "I wouldn't blame you if you ran away this time."

I held on to Doc's warmth for as long as I could. "Good to know." I pulled away and smiled into my friends blue eyes. There was a kitchen window off to the right. There was a small building next to it, and if a person were to burst through it at just the right angel they'd land on the building's roof. Well away from any agents waiting at the bottom of a fire escape. Doc's arms released me.

And I was an expert on angels.

My body went through the window with a shower of glass behind it. My arms were slashed brutally as I cover my face. I rolled painfully onto the rooftop. Air whistled out of my lungs loudly. I cried out in pain as one who just smashed through a window would. I was pretty sure the laptop was destroyed, but I had to keep going. I hopped from one rooftop to the next..

I couldn't hear him from where I had run, but behind me Mycroft turned to Sherlock and said closed to amused, "What a coincidence, that's how Sherlock left Mother and Father's house."

Mycroft's goons were waiting. I turned on my heel and ran in the other direction, but more were closing in. If I were in my normal state of mind I would have laughed at the legions of police officers needed to take down a Holmes girl. I felt a rough hand grab me by the collar of my sweatshirt. He slammed me against a cop car. I kicked him where the sun didn't shine.

It wasn't long before I was eventually pinned a car, and found my hands being cuffed behind me. My nose was bleeding profoundly, and so was my lip. I kept my eyes trained straight ahead as they shoved into the back of the car. As the summer winds blew I could smell my former favorite cousin's presences behind me. I wiped my nose on my sleeve.

Mycroft leaned in and gave the officer instructions on where to go, but I wasn't listening. I was staring at my now tattered jeans, with bitter tears in my eyes. A second lady officer climbed into the passenger's side. The car jerked forward.

I caught a glimpse of the lady's face in the review mirror. Asian, pretty, she had a look of seriousness on her face that would have made my cousin laugh. I felt a sharp pain in my chest.

I officially hated my life.

The lady cop twisted in her seat, and I shot her look of anger. She smiled. "Oh please you have no right to be angry at me." She was dabbing something on a white rag. "Yet."

She thrust the clothe over my mouth and nose. I tried to pull back, but her hand gripped my throat like a vice.

The last thing I remembered was screaming my cousin's name.


	8. Unbelievable

I hated needles.

Every time I moved my head two inches they stuck a needle in my arm and I was out again. I didn't remember being dragged in. I didn't remember being strapped to a medical bed and examined for cuts and bruises. I did; however, remember them breaking my leg.

First myth about torture scenes in books is that the hero never cries. I don't know who the Hell came up with that, but I bawled like a baby. I said so many swear words the paint began pulling off the walls. Or maybe that was the mold.

The man in a lab coat had taken my leg in his hands, and snap! I'm proud to say I kicked him in the nose with my good leg. That's when another needle was stabbed into my arm. I blacked out.

I was vaguely aware of them asking different questions between needle stabs. Questions about Mycroft, Sherlock, and my dad. I don't remember what profanity I told them, but I knew it wasn't what they were looking for. I think I mentioned how much Doc secretly liked bubble baths, and how Mycroft was an ass. I didn't say anything about Sherlock.

The needles stopped after my leg was broken. They knew I couldn't run anymore. I tried desperately to make myself calm. WWSD?

What would Sherlock do?

I didn't want to think about my stupid cousin.

I gently touched my leg which was propped up carelessly. I was slowly starting to remember them sticking a camera in my face when my leg was broken. I knew where the footage had gone.

I looked around the room I had been forced into. All the walls were white, the place reeked of iodine, and it was clearly a medical facility of some kind.

The Asian woman dressed in white came into the room. I snarled at her. She shrugged as if I were the most annoying person in the world to her. She sat across from me.

"Tell me what you remember about your father." She said nonchalantly.

"He had gray hair." I replied smartly. That earned me a punch to the face. For a little woman her fist killed. "That hurt." I snarled angrily.

"Tell me."

"I have PTSD you dumb…" She gripped my leg strongly in her hand. I flinched under her pressure. I gave a small cry of pain.

"Tell me about your cousin Sherlock."

"He's a prick." More pressure. I cried out in pain.

After several minutes of questions about my dad and agonizing pressure the Asian woman smiled and pressed a small blue object in my hand. My cell phone. I gave her a confused look. She simply smiled, gave my leg one last pain inducing pat, and left the room. She wanted me to call Sherlock.

I looked down at the glowing objecting in my hand. Twenty five new messages binged back at me.

**Jayden? Did you run away? Please tell me you just ran away. – Doc 12:35**

**Jade, tell me where you are. – SH 12:36**

**Jayden they weren't police men if you're still awake get out of there. –Doc 12:36**

**Jade, tell me where you are. – SH 12:37**

**Jayden, Sherlock didn't mean what he said, he was trying to get you to safety. Come on kiddo please respond. – Doc 12:40**

**Jayden, Sherlock just threw up. Please just text me back. –Doc 12:52**

I hit reply to Doc's text. **Ran away. – Jade**

**I waited. It took thirty seconds to get a reply.**

**Why can't we call your phone? – Doc 4:59**

**Rigged it. – Jade**

**Jade, tell me where you are. – SH**

I hit reply to Sherlock's message. **Up your ass. – Jade**

**Doc, I'm fine. Leave me be okay? – Jade**

**Jade. – SH**

**LET IT DIE SHERLOCK – Jade **

**Sherlock is convinced you've been taken by the Black Lotus. – Doc**

**He's wrong. – Jade.**

**We saw the the footage of your leg. Please just tell me -Doc**

**I can't save you if you don't tell me where you are. –SH**

**You hate me though. Remember? -Jade**

**You said you hate me. I never said I hated you. – SH**

**You may as well have. – Jade**

**Tell me where you are. – SH**

**I don't know. – Jade**

**You're my blood. Figure it out. – SH**

**Don't. – Jade**

**Don't what? - SH**

**Don't try to find me. – Jade**

**Immature Brat. – SH**

**Unbelievable.**

The Asian woman came in and snagged my phone away. They took my phone away to read the messages.

It must have come as a shock to them that I hadn't told Sherlock where I was because they gave me my phone back.

But I refused to text my cousin back. The woman was clearly getting annoyed because she threw my phone at my head. It cracked on my forehead. I felt blood trickle down my face.

I wiped my forehead on my sleeve. The sight of my own blood made my queasy. The Asian woman smiled as though my pale face were a delight to her.

I stuck my tongue out at her.

If a person is ever captured by a crazy Chinese mafia don't stick your tongue at them. They take serious offense and club you until you can't see straight. The woman's white coat was turning red.

I fell back against the cold medical cot. It was the only thing not bright white in the room. It was an ugly army green, with springs that stuck out in odd angels. I took deep breaths in, there was a horrible pain in my chest.

I wished I would have just died jumping out that stupid window. A man in a lab coat approached my bedside with Sherlock's laptop in his hands. The lid was open.

So it had survived the fall.

He passed it over to me. My cousin's face was staring through the screen. "You!" I shouted a little more loudly than I intended.

"Shut up and push the screen back. I need to see your injuries."

I showed him a particular finger.

"Jade." He said impatiently. Doc's pale face appeared behind him. I gulped.

"Jayden! Jesus are you hurt?!" Doc about pushed Sherlock out of his chair.

"Oh stop it. She's gotten a broken leg, swollen throat, black eye, and cuts everywhere from the window jump. Oh by the way MORON." He said moron in a sing songy voice. I shifted the screen.

"How did you…?"

"The screen is tilting farther to the right then it is to the left. Your leg has been propped up. Your holding your head awkwardly to the side over your usually egotistical head held high. Plus no one jumps out of a window arms first and is not, cut."

"Sherlock not now, please." Doc begged.

"I told you to let it die, Sherlock." I snapped.

"If I let it die I'd be letting you die." Sherlock's eyes were scanning the room. It was in the same way that I had secretly admired. His eyes shot around the white room taking everything in.

"Sherlock," I started. His eyes kept going. "Sherlock!"

His eyes stopped and trained on me. Doc looked stunned at my sudden out burst.

"Sherlock don't. Please, stop looking at this Hell like it's a puzzle that you've figured out. If you come here they'll hurt you, and just don't do it okay." I wiped my nose where snot and blood were coming out. "Don't be unbelievable."

That was his word, Sherlock's word. Unbelievable, not because he was an immature prick, which he was, but it was because he was my cousin and I loved him. I put my head on the screen like I could rest my forehead on his. Unbelievable because there was no one smarter, unbelievable because he saw the world differently, and unbelievable because he was a good man. "Please Sherlock. Not this time."

Doc had tears in his eyes. I saw him turn around and throw up. Sherlock's eyes were boring into mine. I knew he could tell where I was, I could see it in his face.

"Tell me what they want." He said gently.

The line went black. I sucked in a deep breath as the man with the lab coat took the laptop out of my hands.

"Beautiful performance. He's bound to come now, your cousin." His Scottish accent was thick, his dark hair was combed off to the side. He sneered at my face.

I would have jumped him if there wasn't a needle digging deep into my arm.


	9. PDA

My leg woke me up it hurt so much.

I was propped up in a hard wooden chair. My leg was twisted at an awkward angel and my wrists were tied in front of me. The smell of idione was so strong it made my head fuzzy.

I just wanted my leg to stop hurting.

The room was white, of coure, everything was white. The brightness of the lights were driving me nuts, as they reflected off everything.

I fidgeted in my seat. The Asian woman was standing behind me with her hand on my shoulder. She smelt like roses and stupidity. I wrinkled my nose.

"Could you not stand so close, your stupidity might rub off on me."

She cracked me in the back of the head. I grunted painfully, but otherwise said nothing. The woman's gripped tightened on my shoulder. She seemed nervous.

"I'm not going to tell you about my dad." I said shortly.

I expected her to hit me again, but instead she just tightened her grip threateningly. I grimaced. The man with the lab coat came through a brightly lit hallway. He was leading four men in, with a taller man between them. Inside my head I started screaming. Sherlock was in the middle of the mob looking perfectly bored. I sat up straighter.

"Mr. Holmes." The woman greeted almost warmly.

"Oh, brilliant. How long did it take you to come with that one?" I needed to stop asking questions. She completely backhanded me.

Sherlock stiffened between the men, but otherwise gave no indication that I even existed. The Asian woman walked around me, her hand extended to my cousin. "I am Ri of the Black Lotus."

"Clearly." Sherlock said.

"Check him." Immediately one of the men pinned Sherlock's arms behind him while another searched him for a weapon. They pulled at a green paintball blowdart. I choked on a laugh.

"Figured you miss it." Sherlock said with his usual cocky grin.

The Asian woman stepped towards him as the search continued. She pushed aside the man who was currently searching my cousin and began herself. Sherlock rolled his eyes dramaticly.

She made a small gesture and the men released him. He straightened himself up, as the Asian women pointed a small pistol at his chest. "I have always wanted the pleasure of killing you, Mr. Holmes. You are the reason my mother died."

"Yes well, your mother tried to a kill a friend of mine. And a woman he was trying to "get with". She thrust the muzzle against his chest.

"Sherlock!" I couldn't have stood up if I wanted to. My leg was spazing just sitting still. Sherlock simply raised his eyebrows.

"Shut up, Jade." He stared at the woman calmly. "I'm afraid the pleasures not yours, though. Am I right?" Her frown deepened. "Ah, I am right. Oh this is fun. I'd like to see my cousin now."

She aimed the gun at me. "Maybe not kill you, Mr. Holmes, but my sponser said nothing about wounding your little cousin." She lowered the pistol so it was pointing at my knee. "Arms above your head please."

Sherlock's face registered no emotion as he obeyed the woman's request. She stepped forward, clearly enjoying her power over the Great Sherlock Holmes. She rested a hand on his chest, and slowly made her way to the bottom of his shirt.

"Oh groo-dy!" I made a dramatic gagging noise. She whipped the pistol back at me. Sherlock rolled his eyes, but was smiling all the same. The woman lifted his shirt over his head and threw it on the ground. After a good long look at him, she let him approach me.

The first thing he did was put his fingers against my throat gently and turn my head so he could look at the bruises on the side of my face. He traced his fingers over the cut were my cell phone had hit me. I grabbed his hand in mine.

"I told you not to come."

He put his right hand on the side of my face gently. His eyes were searching every part of my body for injuries. He pushed the hair out of my face and untied my hands. I didn't let go of his hand.

"Sherlock."

"Shut up." He gingerly touched my leg. His hand came back dark red from the cuts over my leg.

"Don't, don't it's really sore." I could hardly breath. He checked my head for a fever, the smell of him was enough comfort to bring my breathing under control. I leaned against his bare shoulder. His skin was icy.

"You're freezing." I mumbled into his shoulder.

"It's zero degrees in here." He took my face in both his hands and turned it right and left. My neck didn't turn nearly as far as it should. I shook my head between his hands, I reached my hand up and took his hand again.

"It's burning up in here."

"Jade, you're running a fever, your back, neck, and leg are swelled up. Of course you think it's hot in here." He let me lean on him while he continued searching for injuries.

The woman put the pistol on the back of Sherlock's head. He sighed loudly, but turned around slowly. He released my hand.

"Now Mr. Holmes, if you would please tell me who you have informed about our location."

He glared at her like she was the most stupid person in the world. Her sneer began slipping. Sherlock's muscles were tensing against the cold, but that was the only display of discomfort he gave. "Use your head and think. Or at least think as much as you can."

My leg burned mercilessly. The Asian woman took a step towards my cousin again, I rolled my eyes. PDA was not okay.

She stomped on my leg with her deadly high heels.

I screamed so loud I thought I'd shatter the lights. I felt my eyes rolling back into my head as I began to pass out. Sherlock dropped next to me, quickly trying to come to my aid.

But something changed in his eyes. They were going blank.

"Jade." He gasped. He fell forward with a needle deep in his arm. I fell off my chair on top of him.

Out cold.


	10. Before it lays eggs

Sherlock was drooling on my shoulder.

I tried to push him off, but my arms were not responding. They simply twitched uselessly. "Traitors." I mumbled. My fingers jerked in response.

Sherlock made a small snorting sound, which was followed by a disgusting bubble spittle. I made an awkward gagging noise. "'ferlock."

Great my mouth wasn't working either.

" 'erlock."

Come on, Jade, use your words.

"Sherlock!" I wiggled my shoulder underneath him until he began to respond. He snorted as he came to, his eyes were blinking frantically. He tried to sit up, but his body was responding as well as mine was.

I told my body to react. I was the master of myself, my fingers began twitching. I tried to focus harder.

Come on, come on.

I managed to make my muscles spaz, but the only thing major movement I was able to do was dump Sherlock off the army cot we were sat on, and onto the cold floor. He grunted painfully.

"Sorry, sorry."

He shook his head back and forth. His hands twitched uselessly and even after all that, he still managed to turn his head and be a smart ass. "If you point out we're drugged you're as useless as a person who jumps out of a two story window. Oh, wait."

"Glad to hear you're doing okay, Cuz."

Sherlock moved his facial muscles slowly. He put his hands flat on the ground and rolled himself over. Though a little movement it was, it exhausted him. He lay on his back shucking in gulps of air. "We've changed buildings."

I blinked, my mind was too fuzzy to figure out how he knew. "How did…"

"The walls aren't white, the ceilings to low suggesting different part of the building, but more likely because it's different building all together, the…."

"I get it, I get it. Even drugged you're still a genius."

Sherlock pressed his hands to his bare abdomen. He let out sigh of annoyance. "That was my favorite shirt."

"It was purple."

"It was my favorite."

"God save us from the torture of you losing your favorite purple shirt." I mumbled. I couldn't tell if Sherlock was smiling or not. I thought I noticed him smirking, but my vision was doubling, so it was hard to tell. We lay/sat in awkward silence.

"Sherlock, is it still cold in here?" I asked. My body felt like it was on fire, the only good thing about the drugs was the pains from my injuries were gone.

"Look at your breath, and then ask me again." His usual smart ass-ism was coming back full swing.

I breathed out what my mother used to affectionately call smoke breath. It was defiantly freezing. Sherlock wasn't even shivering.

"You don't look cold."

"I'm too excited to be cold." So he was smiling. "This is too fun."

"That's it. When we get back I'm giving you my loony pills." I pressed my head to the cool wall. I was grateful for the cold.

Sherlock was pulling himself up into a sitting position. I was jealous of his strength and will; then again he wasn't dealing with several injuries and a fever. I fell back on the old army cot, the stupid thing had the nerve to creak.

"Shut up." I growled at it.

Sherlock was struggling to pull himself to his feet. It was clear he was groggier than he was letting on. His body crashed back down to the floor.

"Please don't get up in my account, Mr. Holmes." Ri, of the Black Lotus said warmly.

I put my face in the cot and mumbled curse words at my favorite psycho bitch. Sherlock was still trying to stand.

"Chinese herbs, Mr. Holmes. You'll be weak for hours."

Sherlock's body seemed desperate to defy her as he rose slowly to his feet. Her eyes widened. Sherlock's blue eyes were icy, but his expression was quickly weakened as he collapsed back to his knees. Even his body was limited.

Her self-righteous look returned. She took a step towards my cousin and rested the muzzle of a gun on his shoulder. "Mr. Holmes, I would be so appreciative if you and your cousin would answer some questions."

I could see Sherlock laugh and shake his head smugly. "For God's sake I'm bored already."

"Don't you just want to kill it before it lays eggs?" I directed the question loudly at The Black Lotus clan.

She fired a shot above my head that caused the cement wall to explode. "Holy T.A.R.D.I.S of Gallifrey!" My body reacted by throwing itself off the army cot and onto my cousin. We rolled painful together.

"Oof." Sherlock grunted.

"Ta-dah." I said dizzily.

Sherlock, ever the concerned cousin, shoved me off him. Obviously our motor skills were returning faster than they were supposed to. My leg throbbed as if telling me the blissful numbness was leaving. I groaned.

She sighed heavily as if completely disappointed with our lack of cooperation. She pointed the gun back at Sherlock's head. "Him first. The little girl is too weak for this now. We need her wide awake for later."

Two men yanked Sherlock up between them. Sherlock's knees gave out and suddenly the two men were holding him up. I rolled onto my hands and knees as my leg screamed in protest. I stared at Sherlock longingly. "He doesn't know anything."

"He is the Great Sherlock Holmes. He knows everything." And with that they carried my cousin out of the room.

They brought him back within two minutes.

His forehead was bleeding profoundly, his chest was bruised, and the way he carried himself suggested he had broken ribs. He stumbled in on his own, refusing to allow the Black Lotus thugs to carry him. I could see pain in his usually emotionless eyes. The door slammed behind him and he fell face first into the army cot.

"Sherlock!" I tried to stumble towards him, but my leg wouldn't allow it.

"Stay back." He said close to shouting. He rose to his hands and flipped himself over so he was lying on his back. I could hear his labored breathing. I choose to ignore his stay back and stumbled over to him.

"Sherlock." I whispered. He had his eyes closed.

"Jade, get back."

I put my hand on the side of his forehead and brushed the hair out of his face.

"Jade."

I pulled a furry old blanket over his chest carefully. There were only bruises on his chest, no cuts.

"Jade."

I scrapped ice off the side of the wall and gently placed it near his swelling eye. It was the first time I realized how cold it was in the room.

"Jayden!" He shouted. His ice blue eyes looked at me with anger, I stared back at him.

"Sherlock!" I shouted at the top of my voice, suddenly just as angry. "Shut up. I know you think your above help, but here's a little deduction for you. You. Are. Human. And you're my cousin so just let me help you. I won't tell anyone, so please just shut your Goddamn trap."

The door opened behind us, Sherlock sat up a little. Two water bottles were being rolled into the room, along with a small first aid kit. I pretty much had to crawl to get the water bottle, my leg was throbbing terribly. I gripped one in my hand and popped the top off. Orderless, colorless, it seemed to good to be true. I crawled back with first aid kit and water bottles. I passed one to Sherlock, who sniffed it and ran his finger around the edge. After a few seconds he took a sip, then another. He licked his lips and passed me the bottle.

"This one's okay. Now let me see the other one." I passed it to him. He preformed the same ritual again and then took a sip. After a few seconds of waiting he began chugging his water down. I followed suit.

Sherlock cracked open the first aid kit, he grabbed my bad leg and put it in his lap. I flinched horribly. Sherlock took out bandages and began wrapping it carefully. He made sure to set it straight up and down. My bones protested loudly.

"Sherlock." I groaned.

He said nothing. His hands worked expertly around my leg. Doc would have been impressed. "What'd they ask?" I asked finally.

"Nothing." His deep voice said quietly.

I leaned back into the cold wall. "Sherlock, you can tell me…"

"They did not ask me anything." He said softly. He finished with my leg, I wiggled it slightly. The pain wasn't totally gone, but having it wrapped helped.

"Why wouldn't they ask you anything?" I ruffled through the first aid kit and pulled out idione and a rag. I swabbed a bit of it on the bottom of the rag and gently dabbed it on Sherlock's forehead.

"It's a mind game." His voice sounded dangerously close to amused. "Outside of the room is dangerous, inside is safe. They want us to want to be in this room." He took the rag from my hand and dabbed at his own wound. Heaven forbid anyone help him.

Sherlock held the rag against his head. I looked over his bruises and scopped out more ice.

"Immature brat."

"I know."

I put the ice in a rag and gently pressed it to my older cousin's swelled eye. He passed me the rag full of idione, and let me clean the rest of his wounds.

In our own Holmes way, we were telling each other we'd be there for one another.


	11. Sentiment

We had been sitting in the room for what Sherlock said was twelve hours, and my lips were turning a violent blue.

Sherlock was pretty much attacking me with the only blanket we had been given. He kept trying to throw it over my head. I threw it back.

"Knock it off!"

"You're going to freeze!"

"You're the one who's half naked!"

"Don't be stupid."

"Sherlock, how about I just strangle you with it?"

If we had been healthy no doubt we would have wrestled over it, but seeing as neither one of us felt one hundred percent we did the logical Holmes thing. We wrestled over it anyway.

I threw the blanket over his head and tried to strangle him with it. As gently as he could he picked both me and the blanket up and threw us back onto the army cot. And to prove he was superior he stuck his foot in my face. I had to surrender because my leg fell like it was about to pop off. And his foot stench was disgusting.

"Nimrod." He growled. "You're immune systems down. You need to keep yourself warm, or you could catch…" He started listing a multitude of diseases that sounded to smart for their own good.

"I love you too, Butthead." I stuck my tongue out at him. His face fell, I knew Sherlock didn't believe in sentiment. He thought it was a weakness found only on the losing side. I frowned. "I mean not really, I put up with you that's all."

Sherlock straightened himself up. "Well, I can hardly stand you. You're immature, lazy, and a complete child."

"Says the twelve year old trapped in a thirty-two year olds body." I mumbled. He rolled his eyes. "Plus you're an ice cream hog. Seriously Sherlock, do you know how annoying that is?"

He didn't smile, he didn't say anything. His lips were starting to turn blue as well, his chest hadn't swelled up despite his number of bruises. The room had been to cold for his body to produce heat. I shook my head. "You need your shirt back."

He shrugged. "Body heat is for idiots."

"Good because you sound like one." We glared at each other for a long second. I sighed. Everything was back to normal.

The door creaked open Sherlock's muscles tensed, it was all I could do not to panic. I pulled the blanket off myself slowly. I knew who they were coming for. I tried to rise, but my leg had other ideas. I sat back down heavily.

Ri had entered the room. He long manicured finger was pointing at me. I felt a strong hand seize my upper arm, it felt like a bear trap clamped over my arm. I stared at Ri.

"I hope now that your cousin is here you'll feel more like talking, little Jayden."

I clamped my jaw together in defiance. Sherlock rose slowly. "She doesn't know anything about her father. Just that he deceased."

I didn't ask him how he had figured out what they wanted. I guess to him it must have been obvious.

"You know what we want?" Ri asked amused.

"Obviously."

Yep.

"Then would you care to enlighten us Mr. Holmes?"

Sherlock said nothing. I didn't dare look at him, he was right sentiment was too often found on the losing side, and right now I was feeling it. I simply glared at the world's biggest retard. The man began dragging me towards the door.

My leg screamed in pain causing my vision to swim. He simply tightened his grip and kept walking. I limped pathetically behind him. Sherlock's eyes were whizzing from Black Lotus member to member. By the time we reached the door I was practically being dragged. I kept my head up until Sherlock was out of sight, and then my legs gave out altogether.

I was dragged into a pale colored room with computers I it. The room was still cold, but nearly as cold as the cell Sherlock and I had to endure. A car was placed in front of a computer screen, and I was placed in a chair.

They wanted me to hack Scotland Yard….Again.

"Up yours." I said quietly at the keyboard.

I thought I would experience the full fury of the Black Lotus. I braced every muscle I had for a beating. I should have known better. As Sherlock had pointed out early these people would play mind games, and the kid gloves were coming off. She flicked on light.

There was Sherlock held up between two men, he was sweating so hard his body reflected the bright lights reflected on him. I took in a great gasp of air.

I told him to stay away.

"Now Ms. Holmes, the information about your father."

"Let him go." My voice came out more deadly than a person in my position should have been able to say.

She shrugged like it wasn't her problem. A hulking man stepped forward and punched Sherlock full in the ribs. My cousin's body went six inches in the air before it came crashing back down. His face contorted in pain.

Sherlock had a face that was meant to be full of pride, not pain. I shot to my feet.

"Sherlock!" I shouted. A cold hand rested on my shoulder.

"You want to save him then all I ask is the information, Ms. Holmes."

I let her push me back into the hard seat. My cousin was controlling his breathing, but barely. He sucked in air deeply, his breath was raspy.

Sentiment. Losing. Lose. Lost.

I hacked into Scotland Yard in a matter of seconds. Ri was so eager she shoved me out of my chair. I hit the unforgiving ground at an awkward angle, but my leg wasn't what I was worried about.

"Let him go." I repeated. It was more pleading then deadly. Ri turned her head slowly, her black eyes bore into mine. I could see a new game idea pass through her eyes.

"I was going to break his wrist regardless if you helped our cause or not, but since you were so good and quick I'll give you a new option. His wrist, or yours."

"Mine. Just do it fast." I said softly. I could feel tears in my eyes. I brushed them on my sleeve. "And give Sherlock back his shirt."

"Very well." She smiled. She took a step toward me and almost tenderly stroked hair out of my face. "I don't know what that man does to inspire love in people. He seems like a real ass to me."

"I don't love him." I spat at her.

"And yet here you are offering to destroy your own wrist to save your cousin. You call him unbelievable with such admiration in your eyes it's sickening." She laughed at my face. "Oh please, don't flatter your cousin by thinking he's the only one who can deduce things."

I felt a rough hand grab my arm. I flinched expecting him to shatter my wrist right there, but he dragged me into the brightly lit room with Sherlock, and threw me at my older cousin's feet. I grunted painfully.

"Please don't tell me you gave them anything." He said through breaths of pain.

"She did more than that." Ri was smiling. "She offered to save you from a very painful few months Mr. Holmes." She sneered at me. "Tell him."

I said nothing.

"Tell him or no deal."

I didn't look at my cousin. I could practically feel his disappointment boring through the back of my head. "She said they were either going to break your wrist or mine, and the choice was mine."

"And you chose you." He said frankly.

"Yeah, Sherlock. I chose me."

Ri took my hand and laid it on the floor. I would have thought her movement graceful if she hadn't been about to snap my arm. I still hadn't looked at Sherlock.

She pressed her high heels on my wrist and began applying pressure. I gritted my teeth. My bones were beginning to rub together.

"You could stop this, Mr. Holmes. All you have to do is beg." She said seductively.

"Sherlock, don't" I could feel my wrist cracking. "I'm fine, it doesn't even hurt." She applied more pressure. I flinched. "See tickles."

"Mr. Holmes."

"Sherlock."

"It's about to break."

"It tickles."

I could feel tension building between Sherlock and me. "Don't." I whispered. "You owe me that much."

My wrist snapped loudly as Ri finally grew tired of waiting and stomped on it.

I felt a cry of pain burst out of my mouth, but then darkness over took me, and I was out cold.

I woke up back in our lovely cell, wrapped in blanket that smelled like old people, and had my wrist perfectly bandaged. There was one other thing. And just thinking about made my throat swell up with emotion.

I was leaning against Sherlock. His eyes were closed and his breathing pattern suggested he was sleeping. But his arm was wrapped tightly around me, and my head had been resting on his chest.

I closed my eyes again and breathed in my cousins warmth.

"I love you too, butthead." I whispered softly into his favorite purple shirt.


	12. Mummy and Daddy issues

I was completely off balance.

They had smashed my left wrist and my right leg, needless to say my body was responding poorly. I kept trying to hobble around the tiny cell to see how far my body could move without beginning to shut down. Even then it took Sherlock to threaten me before I willing sat back down. We had been in the cell for five days without another questioning; however, twice a day one of us was taken out and beaten in some way. Today was my day.

I came back in limping, bleeding, and with a cracked rib, but otherwise okay. Sherlock began his usual ritual of checking my wounds, cleaning them out, and then making me drink at least half a bottle of water. I spat a wad of blood out on the floor.

"Get smart again, did you?" He began dabbing at a head wound.

"More like they got dumb."

He smiled a little. His hands were expertly binding and cleaning wounds. I looked at my cousin sadly. They had left his face alone, on Ri's orders no doubt, but the rest of him was black and blue.

And to top it all off all he would let me do to help was make him and ice pack.

He passed me a water bottle, which I took gratefully. My mouth was bleeding profoundly and I had to spit constantly. I leaned over ready to spit out another huge blob when something caught my eye. Cuts on my right arm that were scabbed over.

I had jumped out of a window.

I remembered flying through it in a shower of glass. I had heard Mycroft whisper something in an amused tone. "What did Mycroft mean when he said. 'That's the same way he left Mother and Father's'?" I gave my best impression of my eldest cousin.

"Nothing. Actually drink some of that." He pointed to the water bottle I was neglecting.

"Tell me first." I demanded.

He gently touched the side of my face where a bruise was beginning to form. I spat next to him. "Come on. Please?"

"No." He turned my head slowly side to side. My range of motion was improving drastically. I pulled my face away from his hand, he rolled his eyes. "If John's puppy dog eyes don't work neither will yours." He said sarcastically.

I could have done the honorable thing and obeyed my cousins wishes. I could have politely excepted his answer and moved on with the day. But if I had down that I wouldn't be a Holmes.

"Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplea se?"

"Why do you ask so many questions?" He snapped.

"You do too." I said defensively.

"I don't need to ask questions, I'm not an…"

I cut off his insult. "You don't need to ask questions aloud, Sherlock. You ask yourself questions all the time. That's how you solve things."

He gaped at me. I stared into his eyes and shrugged. "Just saying."

I thought Sherlock would be to mad to speak, that's what usually happened. He pointed to the water bottle in my hand. I took a swig.

"By the time I was your age my mother's fits of rage had gone from late groundings to physical beatings. When we were children Mycroft used to try to keep me quiet to keep from, 'upsetting mummy'. At least when he wasn't busy upsetting her. By the time I was eleven Mycroft moved out, and I became Mother's sole target. As I reached the age of eighteen I had enough, and decided it was time to go. Rather dramaticly I might add. My father left us when I was four." I was staring at him with a look of horror. "Oh stop it. The signs of child abuse are all present in my attitude. People are just to thick to notice."

I didn't know whether to hug him or punch him. I shook my head. "And I thought my life sucked."

"Oh it does. PTSD, abandonment issues, not only that daddy abandonment issues. Your mother is a nervous wreck ever since your father vanished, and you have decided to emotionally cling to a high functioning socio-path."

Yeah, I punched him. I thought I had done it gently, but his whole right arm had been heavily bruised. He didn't flinch, but I saw his eyes register pain. I felt awful. He simply shrugged.

We both heard the door creak open. They had pulled us out at all hours of the day, but never within twenty minutes of each other. Sherlock grabbed the water bottle out of my hand just to reshove it in my face. I got the message and sucked the rest of it down. Ri entered the room. Her dark eyes were staring daggers at me. I was surprised to see she had a dark black eye.

Fantastic.

Her hand gripped the front of my dirty sweatshirt and pulled me so I was nose to nose with her. "You did not give us all the information we needed, Ms. Holmes." She hissed.

"You did not ask for it, Ms. Crazy Eyes." I growled.

She threw me against Sherlock. We both grunted in pain, Sherlock untangled himself from under me and muttered something about stupidity. I rolled my eyes. Sherlock whispered something softly in my ear. "Don't give them any information. If they get what they need we become expendable."

"Take her out!" She commanded.

A hulking bald man grabbed the front of my sweatshirt and yanked me off my feet. I could sense Sherlock's anger behind me, so I turned and grinned at him.

"It'll be fun."

I was wrong. I was joking of course, but it was much than I could have imagined. The bald man threw me at a computer, my head hit the side of the desk. I rolled onto my hands and knees. "What no chair this time?"

"You test my patience, child?" Ri hissed.

I snarled back at her. She twisted dramaticly around with her hand waving dramaticly. Lights flashed on in the the room adjacent to ours. I almost threw up.

Sherlock was sitting in a chair in nothing but his underwear. He was clearly cold, but he held eyes with the Black Lotus man standing over him with a long sword. The swords man rested the sword on Sherlock's bare shoulder. My breath caught in my throat.

"30 seconds starting now."

"It takes me longer then to hack into FBI files."

"25."

I started jabbing keys.

"20."

"Don't."

"15."

"Don't!" I shouted.

"10."

My fingers were like lightning.

"5."

I hit several buttons.

"1."

"Wait!" I shouted. I twisted the computer around and shoved it in her face. She made a hand gesture and the man with the sword stepped away. She leaned in close to the computer.

And was quickly screamed at by a ghostly face on the monitor.

"I can't hack into Scotland Yard in 30 seconds, what makes you think the FBI is easier?" I said coldly. I looked at my cousin.

Sorry Sherlock.

"If you give me ten minutes I can do it, but not if there's a sword against my cousins head."

I had power. It was a feeling I hadn't had in a week. I stared at Sherlock.

Ri smiled, almost approvingly. We locked eyes. "How about his stomach?"

The swords man made a long slashing movement across Sherlocks stomach and pass his chest. Blood spurted out of him, his dark head droped so fast he didn't even have time to scream.

"Sherlock!" I slammed my body against the glass window. Ri was grabbing my arm. "You've killed him! You've killed him. Sherlock! Sherlock!" She twisted me around.

"10 minutes until he bleeds to death. Only his skin has been slashed, no organs, nothing vital. Give me what I want, and I shall give him medical attention."

It took me 7 minutes to become what Sherlock called expendable. The Black Lotus picked him up out of the room. I tried to follow them out, but I was immediately stopped by a fist. I fell back.

"I should separate you from your beloved cousin, but my sponsor seems to think it is best you stay together." She said.

She snapped her fingers and was being dragged out between to thugs. I was almost grateful when they threw me towards my cousin.

There was another man there, dressed in ratty clothes. He searched Sherlock up and down, his hands were swiftly apply medicine and finally bandages. He turned his head when he heard the door slam.

Frankly he looked gay. Not that anything was wrong with that, but he had the arua of homosexuality shining brightly from him. He had dark hair, and wild eyes. He spoke with a high pitched voice. "Hello."

I dropped next to him. "He's okay? He's okay right?"

"Relax. Only the first layer of skin was cut, he will be fine, but he'll have a nasty scar." The way he said nasty told me he was defaintly gay. "He needs lots of sleep, lots of water, and lots of love." He gave me a stange look that made my skin crawl.

"Are you a doctor or something?" I asked rudely.

"Or something." He smiled. "I'm more like a professor, but I assure you my motives are pure. You see, I'm a prisoner too." He sounded drunk to me.

"Really?" I asked, not at all convinced.

He looked at my cousin. "Really."

The Black Lotus grabbed the doctor by the arm. He smiled almost like he was flirting with them. "Change his bandages daily." He said sing-songy behind himself.

"Thank you." I called after him.

"What's your name?" He called over his shoulder.

"Jade!" I called back, I was worried he hadn't heard me.

"Hello Jade." His voice floated through the open door. "I'm Jim."

The door slammed shut and Sherlock's eyes fluttered open. His hand immediately went to his new bandages. I grabbed it to keep him from scratching the wound. He was mumbling something.

"I…I…"

I stumbled across the room and grabbed the blanket. I pulled it over him and gently put his head in my lap. His eyes were fluttering closed again. I held his hand carefully and stroked his face gently, like my mom had done when I was sick. He was still mumbling softly.

"Mycroft…she doesn't stop….geting worse. No. No, Mother don't!"

My cousin's head was burning up, and I knew it was going to be a long battle to keep him healthy.

I gently put my forehead against his.

"I'm so sorry, Sherlock."


	13. Tired of Sherlock

"Will you sip it?!"

I knew Sherlock was fighting a fever, but I also knew he had to sip water, not chug it. He was leaning heavily against me with his chest heaving. He'd never admit it, but breathing hurt him greatly. I propped him up carefully against the wall.

I gave him the little food we had been giving for that day. Even with a high fever and a slashed chest my cousin was still observant as ever. He took a deep breath in. "You haven't eaten in nine days."

Sherlock had been cut ten days ago.

"I did yesterday." I insisted. "You were sleeping."

"I was sleeping? Is that seriously the best lie you can come up with? You've been with me for over a month now and that is the best you can do?" He chuckled. "For God's sake you are stupid."

If he wasn't injured would have murdered him. "Unbelievable."

"Immature brat."

He refused food until I took several bites, and he was satisfied it was enough. He wouldn't let me feed him, he through an absolute fit the first time I tried.

"I don't need you."

"You can't move your arms, Sherlock."

"I still don't need you. I am perfectly capable of feeding myself thank you."

I watched him struggle for a while as he managed to make his hand grip the bread, but that was all the movement he could manage. He stared at it like his mind would bring it to his mouth.

"Do you…"

"No."

"Cause I could…."

"Shut up."

In the end he managed to feed himself, but labor exhausted him. I put the blanket under his head for a pillow. He mumbled something about needing no one.

I rolled my eyes. "Of course you don't."

It took me a while to learn how to change his bandages properly, and not like a handicapped monkey as Sherlock constantly told me. I carefully cut the old bandages away from him, applied new medicine, lay down gauze over his stomach, and applied new bandages. He didn't flinch once. I let him rest for an hour.

The wound had stayed clean, which was all I was happy about, but Sherlock was clearly frustrated with his lack of movement. It made him even more irritable.

I tried to help him walk and move as much as he could, but I was still wrestling with a broken leg. We both had to lean on each other to make it one lap around the tiny cell. Sherlock was sweating heavily as we sat down.

"We got farther."

"Shut up."

"I'm just saying."

"Yes, and I'm just saying shut up." He snapped.

"Were those the only words you learned how to say?" I was just as irritable. I hadn't slept or eaten since Sherlock had been hurting, and his lack of kindness was really starting to piss me off.

"Oh go look for Daddy."

"Go jump off a roof!" I shouted.

"Temper, temper, Ms. Holmes." He said smugly.

"Up yours, Mr. Holmes." I growled.

I looked longingly at a water bottle. I had made myself drink something every other day, but I always gave Sherlock most of it. Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Just take it."

I stood up. I was sick of him. I pounded on the cell door.

"Where are you going?"

"I'd like to be tortured again please!" I shouted through the door.

"You're tired." He said shortly.

"Yeah, and you're an ass." I continued pounding on the door.

"Will you stop, you're giving me a headache."

I turned around to face him. "WELL Heaven help us if I disturb the great Sherlock Holmes' head because it's done us so much good for the past two weeks!" I threw myself onto the army cot and ignored the awful pain in my arm and leg.

Sherlock stared blankly at me. "I'm beginning to sense you're angry with me."

I glared at him from over my shoulder, before rolling onto my side so I didn't have look at him. I gave a loud humph.

I curled into a ball because I was cold and the Great Ass of Britain had the blanket. I closed my eyes, which was foolish because every time I closed my eyes I saw Sherlock's blood burst out of him. I opened my eyes rapidly to stop the images.

"I don't know what that man does to inspire love."

Neither did I to be honest.

"You are such a child." Sherlock said laughing. I took deep breaths to keep my blood from boiling. Sherlock was really beginning to push his luck. "No wonder you feel like no one loves you." He said to the ceiling.

I chucked an old apple core so hard at his head, he barely had time to duck. I saw red, I aimed my fist at Sherlock's nose, but at the last second I managed to stop it. I was panting, his eyes were challenging.

"As soon as you're better," I spoke coldly, "I'm going to put you in the hosipital."

Sherlock shrugged clearly bored.

We were both tired, we were both hungry, and the key ingredient to our angry stew was, we were both Holmes. Not moving, not using the brain, being at the mercy of the Black Lotus, it was no wonder we wanted to kill each other.

The door swung open noisily. I was almost glad it was my day to be taken out, but as I rose Ri shook her head menacingly and pointed at Sherlock.

"You're not serious." I said. "He can hardly move as it is. Leave the asshole be."

"We have some questions for you, Mr. Holmes. Your cousin has been most cooperative, we hope you'll extend us the same curtiousy."

"Yes well my cousin's an idiot, I wouldn't hold your breath if I were you."

Sherlock was forced to lean on one of thuggies as they dragged him. I felt miserable watching him go. I couldn't believe how we snapped at each other. So much for cousinly love. I sighed.

"And Ms. Holmes, I'd like you to have a seat." I large needle went into my arm.

Sherlock's whole, "you can't get hurt in the room theroy" was wrong.

I wasn't out cold, or anything. I just couldn't move from the neck down. Ri explained how Sherlock would clearly need a more complicated game to get him to talk. I shook my head. Sherlock knew as much about my dad as I did.

I was hoisted into a chair which I couldn't sit up in. I stared at Ri, she had been followed in by two thuggies. One had a strange, hungry look in his eye. I stuck my tongue out at her.

"Ms. Holmes, the information you gave us was plenty. Now we just need an expert detective to look at it."

"Consulting detective." I growled.

She smirked. "Your cousin is watching on cameras we have just installed around the room. Say hello to your cousin."

"Hello douchebag."

"For every thirty second he says nothing, or gives us fake information an article of your clothing will be taken off by Mr. Chung."

The thuggie with the dangerous yellow eyes stepped forward. I gulped.

"Do you hear that Mr. Holmes? Your time starts now."

We waited in silence. I tried to go to my happy mind palace, but an egg timer when off. Big, tall, and ugly stepped forward. I tried to, but nothing happened.

He took off my sweatshirt.

I was trying not to panic.

Another ding.

He took off my shoes.

I closed my eyes. This wasn't happening.

Ding.

Socks.

I would have been shaking if I hadn't been paralized. There was no more fluff clothes to take off. Next time it would be…

Ding.

His eyes were greedy as his hands went for my jeans. I could feel his fingers fumbling with the zipper.

I couldn't be brave anymore.

"Sherlock!" I cried out.

Ri snapped her fingers and the man wasn't stopping.

"Sherlock, please!"

Ri stepped forward and roughly grabbed him.

"Sherlock help!"

I was crying, but what eighteen year old wouldn't be. The other thug grabbed the man off of me and pulled him away. There wasn't another ding for an hour. Sherlock had done whatever Ri had wanted him to. The Black Lotus left my crying, alone in a chair. I sobbed until I got back control of my arms.

I dragged myself to the far corner and curled into a tight ball. I pulled my arms over my head and sobbed loudly. So loudly I didn't hear Sherlock come in until he was smashing the cameras in his hand. He knelt next to me.

"Jade."

I flinched at his deep voice.

"Jade you're safe now." He said incredibly gentle.

I shook my head into my arms.

No I wasn't.

"You're going into shock. Jade, come here." I felt him take a step closer. I threw up in the corner. The smell was awful. Sherlock ignored it, wrapped my sweatshirt around my shoulders, and pulled me away from the corner. I tried to tell him to becareful of his wound, but it came out as a choked sob.

He took me by the shoulders, and softly tried to explain what was going to happen in shock. He said I was going to be extremely cold and thirsty, but that I had to try and calm down. I knew what would help me calm down, but I could never ask Sherlock for that. I looked in his eyes.

"It's been awhile since I've done this." He mumbled as his arms circled around me. He was rubbing my shoulder comfortingly. Or at least he was trying, he was completely awkward. "There, there."

I was making the motions of crying, but my body couldn't produce tears anymore. Sherlock grabbed the water bottle and passed it to me. I drank everything in it. I sobbed into his bandages.

"Just keep breathing. That's it." He rubbed my shoulder. "You're probably exhausted too. You've been taking care of me all week." He swore.

His wound had reopened and was starting to come through his bandages. I sniffed loudly, and tried to get up and change them for him. His arms tightened.

"Don't be stupid. You're hands are shaking like leaves, you really think you can apply medication."

If I was translating correctly that meant, "Don't get up. You're scared, just stay here."

He rubbed my back soothingly. "I did this once before too. Last time I saw you, and I sent you down the stairs in a hamper to see the results."

I choked on a laugh.

"God, you went farther than I thought."

"You gave me a helmet." I said quietly. That had been Sherlock's whole argument to my father.

"I did, yeah. But you wouldn't stop crying because you were an idiot."

I smiled into his chest.

"I had to carry you upstairs and tuck you in to keep you from crying."

"But Dad found the hole."

"It was impossible to miss." He spoke quietly.

His voice was putting me to sleep. It was deep and relaxing, I leaned into his shoulder.

"I'm sorry Sherlock." I cried softly.

"Me too." I felt his chin rest on my forehead. "I'm sorry too."

I closed my eyes and smiled.

"And if you tell anyone I said that I will destory you."


	14. Oh brother

Sherlock wouldn't tell me what they had made him do.

They hadn't come to ask questions in four days, they hadn't even come in for the daily beatings. I wasn't complaining, but it made me wonder what Sherlock had said.

"Nothing you need to worry about." He growled. His fever had gone down, and he was convinced he could change his own bandages. He wrapped them sloppily around his lower abdamon. I shook me head and took the bandages away from him. I began wrapping it for him.

"I can do it myself."

"You don't have to do it yourself." I said quietly.

I was exhausted. Too exhausted to argue with my cousin, and I think he secretly was too. I finished wrapping his wound. It wasn't closing like I had hoped it would be, but it was clean and if I could get him to sit still for more than five minutes it wouldn't bleed. I leaned against the wall and shut my eyes.

"You can't sleep." He observed.

"No shit, Sherlock."

"Nightmares?"

"Yeah."

"Well I slept like a baby."

Sherlock usually slept with his head in my lap and a blanket wrapped around him. He had been throwing up a lot lately and like any man who got sick, he acted like he was two years old until he was comforted.

"I'm sure you did, Sherlock." I mumbled.

I could finally close my eyes without seeing Sherlock cut in two, but psychologically I was still damaged. Everytime I closed my eyes I was scared the Black Lotus would come in and take Sherlock away to be beaten. I reopened my eyes.

Still there.

"So your whole 'can't get hurt in the room' theroy was crap."

"Mm, it was a rare occasion."

"You mean you were wrong."

"You already know the answer to that. I won't dignify it with a response."

"Yep. Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong."

He threw the blanket at my head. I caught it in my good arm and wrapped around my shoulders. The heat had been turned on in our little cell, but it was still cold and damp.

"So your little plan hasn't worked yet." He grumbled from his side of the bed.

"It should have. They've been on the system for over an hour each day."

"The FBI has yet to knock down the door, Jade."

"I don't see Mycroft busting down the doors either. Sure you gave him the right adress?"

"You know I never tell Mycroft anything."

I nodded, only half hearing what Sherlock had said. Out of sheer exhaustion I began slowly laying down on the cot. I rested my head gently on Sherlock's knee. Maybe if I was certain he was there my body would just sleep. For the first time in forever Sherlock didn't whine about my actions. I brought my knees to my chest under the blanket and yawned. Sherlock said nothing.

I slept peacefully for the first time in a long while. The only reason Sherlock woke me up was because he had to puke. He ran to the corner and lost his small supper. I put my hand against the wall, and carefully pushed myself up.

"They've been feeding us salt. Too much salt." He groaned as more came up. I watched him from the other side of the room. I reached for the water bottle.

"No, don't." He said as the last little bit came up.

"You have to drink." I said weakly.

"Think about it. What does salt make you?"

"Fat."

"Thirsty. Don't be dull."

"There's a difference between dull and exhausted, Cousin."

He looked at me hard for a moment. He caught me as I started to fall forward, I felt the strength of his shoulders under my cheek. He smelt awful, but I didn't care.

"How long have you gone without sleep?"

"Since you were cut." I mumbled into his shoulder.

"How much have you eaten since then?" He demanded. I started to lie, but very softly he said my name. I told him I hadn't eaten since he had been hurt.

"When was the last time you drank something?"

"Yesterday."

I couldn't tell if the room was spinning, or if Sherlock had picked me up. I opened my eyes and found myself craddled in my cousin's arms. I rested my head against his chest and felt a small pounding.

A heart.

Sherlock's heart.

I smiled. "You do have one." I mumbled.

"You're delusional." He said only half kidding.

He careful bent over and picked up a water bottle. Gently he set me down on the cot, and stuck his finger into the bottle. He ran it around the rim and frowned. He threw it across the room angrily. It wasn't clean.

"Sherlock." I said softly.

"Go to sleep, Jade."

I reached for him like a small child would. Under normal circumstances it would have, no doubt, been met with mocking and laughter, but Sherlock let me take his hand and hold it to my face. As gently as he could he lifted my upper body up and put it carefully back down so my head rested against his chest.

I slept for hours with my head on Sherlock's chest, before we switched positions. He was getting sicker by the hour, and though he wouldn't admitt it, I could see he wasn't a hundred percent the Great Sherlock Holmes at the moment. He set his head down lightly in my lap, I stroked the hair from his face. In a matter of minutes he was snoring. I closed my own eyes.

The door was slowly opening. My eyes stayed shut, but I could feel Sherlock shifting under my hand. Voices were coming through the door.

"It shouldn't have taken this long."

"They are strong, but even they have a breaking point."

"The male is stronger." Someone said bluntly.

"I disagree. The child will sacrafice herself to keep him safe. You watch."

"You think the man will not fight for the child?" The voice demanded.

"I think he is too proud to."

I opened my eyes. The door was fully opened and two hulking figures step through the door. I groaned softly.

"Let him sleep. He's sick, just let him sleep."

The ignored me, of course. He picked me up by the hood of my sweatshirt and shoved me toward the door. The other man was doing the same to Sherlock. Ri appeared in the door, her black eye looked worse than before.

"Hello my dears. I think you'll find my next game to be quite shocking."

The pun was totally intended.

Sherlock was put into a different room and strapped into a chair with wires attached everywhere. I was the same. We could see each other through a large glass window. I stared at my cousin's face.

"Well, Mr. Holmes you're looking well rested." Sherlock said nothing, he only stared at me. "I wish I could say the same for your poor cousin."

I made a pig face and wagged my tongue. Sherlock giggled. Ri stared at me coldly.

"I think your cousin will demonstrate how the games in played, Mr. Holmes." She walked through the door that lead to my room and stood behind a small machine. "You two will be answering a few more questions. Nothing about Mr. Landon Holmes, you've already answered plenty of those." She smiled like the Grinch gettng a wonderful, awful idea. "Simple questions that you may not want the othe to know, and for every lie," She indicated towards what looked like a truth dectector from the old movies, "The other shall receive a small shock, same if you refuse to answer. Like so."

She hit a button. An electric current surged through my body mercilessly. I felt my body seize painfully, I thrashed unable to control my muscles. I managed to keep my mouth shut until the pain stopped. I clasped forward, but my restraints held me. "It will get worse each time."

"First question," She smiled. "for you, Mr. Holmes. Have you figured out my little game yet? The one you thought for sure was meant to keep you in that room."

"No." He said coldly.

"A pity. Shall I tell you? It was to keep you and your cousin desperate to stay with each other. Haven't you noticed that we have never hurt the two of you when you were together?"

"You broke her wrist." He snarled.

"A mistake my sponser has made sure I pay for everyday." She touched her blackened eye.

"We're together now." I pointed out.

She smiled slowly. "Tell me Sherlock, darling, can rise to save your cousin?"

Sherlock said nothing, his hands balled into fists.

"That is refusing to answer, my dear Mr. Holmes."

Electricity plused through my muscles. I bit my lip to keep from screaming until blood ran down my chin. The pain stopped.

I sucked air in through my teeth.

"Dear Ms. Holmes it's your turn. Tell dear Sherlock who's wallet you carry."

"Oh, please. It's clearly someone she admires and given she's come cross country to find her father…"

"It's your's Sherlock." I stopped his ranting. "You came to vist, and you left it there, and I thought it was lucky so I kept it."

I didn't look at my cousin out of sheer embarassment. I was blushing up to my eyebrows. He had gotten half of it right, it was from someone I admired.

"Mr. Holmes." Ri was overly enjoying herself. "Tell Ms. Holmes the good knews."

Sherlock's toes were moving a hundred miles an hour. He chewed on the bottom of his lip. "They've located your father. He's hiding in Australia, he's very much a live."

I gaped at Sherlock. "That's what you found out That Day isn't it?"

"Yes, it is." He said quietly.

I didn't say anything.

"Ms. Holmes, how do you feel when we take your cousin out of the room?"

I stared at her coldly. I didn't know how to answer that question, there were so many thoughts that raced through my mind when the pulled Sherlock from the room.

Ri sneered and brought her hand on the button. Sherlock's body thrashed against his bonds, his face contorted in pain, but like me he said nothing.

"Don't hurt him!" I shouted. "That's how I feel, please, don't hurt him."

Sherlock stopped thrashing, his eyes were unfocused. He looked like he was going to be sick. "Jade, don't answer them. Don't give them…" Ri pressed her hand to the button, and Sherlock thrashed back.

"Tell Jayden the other thing about her father." Sherlock's eyes were rolling back. Ri finally took her hand off the button. Sherlock took in air like every breath hurt him.

Ri's hand was centimeters away from the button. Sherlock wouldn't talk, not as long as she was only hurting him. I looked at him. His eyes bore into mine as he shook his head.

"Don't." His eyes said. "Don't be stupid."

"The child will sacrafice herself to keep him safe."

"Keep him safe."

"Oi." I shouted at Ri.

Sherlock strained against his bonds, he was saying nothing, but his eyes were. "Jade, please don't."

"You want him to talk put your hand on my button. Go ahead try it."

She did.

It hurt much more than it had before. I gave a small cry that was quickly choked out as my vocal cords were paralized. My whole body was freezing.

"You're my sister, not my cousin. Turn that damn thing off!" He shouted.

The pain stopped, and I lurched forward. My ears were ringing so bad I knew I heard Sherlock wrong. "What did you say?"

"You are my half sister. Landon Holmes was my father, he left for America when I was young and met your mother awhile there after. I didn't know until you showed me his name."

I was staring at Sherlock in disbelief. "I have a brother?"

"Two, counting Mycroft. He's an even worse brother than a cousin." Sherlock was searching my face for emotion.

"How do you feel about this, Ms. Holmes."

Ri was expecting me to angry, to scream at Sherlock how much I hated him for keeping information from me. But if I wasn't tied a chair I would have hugged him to death.

"I have a brother!" I shouted with more joy than a person in position would likely have. Shock appeared on Sherlock's face.

Behind me a door opened and slammed. Sherlock's face began turning white as a sheet. I tried to turn my head.

"And this," came a sing songy voice, "would be my cue. How is my most favorite pain in the ass doing today? Hmmm?"

"Not you." Sherlock said softly. "You're dead."

"So are you dear! Or don't you remember, jumping off buildings can cause memory lose in some people."

Jim waltzed through the door into Sherlock's room and put a bullet in Ri's head. I screamed as she feel to the floor. Jim pointed the gun at me through the window.

"I told you once I would burn the heart out of you." He turned to smile at me. "And you just proved you have one."


	15. Three Holmes and a doctor

Sherlock struggled viciously.

Jim put the gun in Sherlock's lap and walked towards my room. "Don't get up on my account, Mr. Holmes."

He threw his arms in the air like he was thrilled to see me. "Jade! How is my second favorite Holmes? I'm afraid your brother and I have unfinished business, I hope you don't mind if I borrow him for a moment."

He touched the said of my face tenderly. I recoiled at his touch because in all honesty it felt like it was burning, he frowned. His eyes were violent. "I always thought it would be the dear doctor burning." He grabbed the long sword off the wall that had been used to cut Sherlock.

"How would you like to match your new brother?" He smiled. I locked eyes with Sherlock, I tried to give him a brave grin.

"Come in and save her dear brother." Sherlock balled his hands into fists.

"Don't do this." He said coldly. "Moriarty, not this."

"Oh dear me. He won't even come in the room to save his new sister. Shame, shame, Mr. Holmes. It seems you make a _lousy _older brother." His cocked his head. "Come in and save her, Sherlock. Come in and play."

The sword ripped through the flesh on my left arm. My body slumped forward. I heard Sherlock screaming the word no over and over.

Jim walked towards the exit with Sherlock's chair gripped in his hand. As he wheeled him away Sherlock's eyes were blazing with hatred.

Sherlock told me later what happened.

Sherlock struggled against that chair that rolled him away from the room. Moriarty dragged him across the hall and down to where our former cell had been. Moriarty smiled warmly as he slammed Sherlock's chair against the back wall. Sherlock grunted as his chest wound reopened.

"Shh shh shhh. This room is safe, remember? You don't need to be scared. Your little sister on the other hand…" He dramatically sucked in air. "Well the FBI will be here shortly, and you will be free to go."

Sherlock said nothing. He stared at Moriarty with such hatred his blue eyes began turning white. Morairty made a tut-tut sound. "I'm saving your neck." He grabbed Sherlock's chin. "You should be more grateful."

"Let Jade go." He said firmly.

"Say please." Moriarty sneered.

"She's just a child. There is no conquest in killing a child."

"That doesn't sound like please."

Sherlock glared at him.

"Or you could at tell me where dear older brother's flash drive is."

"I gave it back to Mycroft."

"If you were smart you'd know I've been watching you."

"If you'd been watching me you'd see I don't have it."

Moriarty sighed heavily and released Sherlock's chin. "I was hoping seeing an old friend would loosen your tongue, but I guess I can do without Brother's secrets for now."

Moriarty threw a reel of fishing wire and the green blowdart at Sherlock's chest. "I'm going to have one of my assistants help you out of that chair." A man stepped out of the darkness.

"So you haven't killed them all yet." Sherlock tried to sound amused.

"No, I still need this one." Moriarty smiled at the hulking black man. "Be a good boy, Sherlock. I shall return."

"What about my cousin?" He demanded shortly.

"Your SISTER will be fine, as long as you behave my darling." Moriarty skipped away dramatically.

The hulking black man pulled Sherlock's restraints off him. He handed him the fishing wire that Moriarty had previously thrown at him. "Tie your legs." The man demanded.

Sherlock's eyes started taking the man in, they searched him dangerously. Sherlock threw the fishing wire away from him. The man frowned. He took a step towards Sherlock and punched him squarely in the jaw. "Do as I say, damnit."

Sherlock's body crumpled at the man's feet. The man sighed and called Sherlock a little bitch. He picked up the wire and began wrapping it around Sherlock's wrist. As his fat fists finished wrapping the wire around his wrists Sherlock's eyes flew open, his hand gripped a piece of plastic that had broken off of the water bottle. He stabbed the man in the side of the neck.

"Moron." Sherlock cut his hands free, grabbed the blowdart, and started running towards the door.

Sherlock later told me he didn't hear the explosion, he only saw an incredible flash of light. He covered his face with his hand as he slammed back against the wall. His chest wound was seeping through his bandages and his shirt. He struggled to his feet.

"Jade." He staggered forward. "Jade!" Someone was holding him back. "Jayden!"

Lestrade was holding him up and swearing softly. "He's hurt badly!"

"Let go."

"You need a medic." Lestrade said gently, but firmly.

"Jade was in that explosion!" He shouted.

"Who?"

"My cousin. My stupid little sister." He fought against Lestrade's grip. Lestrade later told me there were tears in his eyes. Sherlock denies it.

"Sherlock… no one could have survived that." He said gently.

Doc was running through the rubble. There was a small figure cradled in his arms. Sherlock stopped struggling.

"She's okay. The room she was in wasn't even damaged. Her arms been wrapped up. Rather badly I might add. Did you do this?" He was trying to make a joke.

Sherlock shook his head and looked at my petite form. "She could. If anyone could survive anything it's that idiot."

With that heartwarming thought he sat down. Medics began swarming him, dabbing at cuts, checking his chest, but when one tried to take my body away from Doc Sherlock stopped them.

"No." He said quietly.

"Sir, she needs help." The medic said gently. She was pressing cotton gauze against my bleeding arm.

"She needs me." He said firmly, and despite much protesting from Doc and the medic he took me out of Doc's arms and let me rest in his own. My eyes fluttered open, I was incredibly dizzy.

He put his forehead against mine. I grinned at him. "I guess the FBI got my call after all."

He let out a choked laugh. "Unbelievable." He whispered.

"Immature brat." I responded.

The medic began rushing a stretcher towards us, gently Sherlock put me down on it. I grabbed his hand. "You need to stay where I can see you."

"I know."

The stretcher started wheeling backwards. Sherlock was still gripping my hand tightly. Lestrade took a hold of his shoulder gently. "There's another ambulance..."

"It's not going to happen. Take your jaw off the ground, Lestrade. You look even more idiotic than ever."

I squeezed Sherlock's hand. "Be nice."

"For God's sake… I apologize that I pointed out your mental handicap."

"Close enough."

Sherlock followed my stretcher into the ambulance, he sat down carefully besides me. I put my head against his hand. "That was too easy."

"I know."

"Do you think…?"

"Shush. For right now just shush."

The engine roared to life. I ran my finger over the cuts on his wrist, he was already starting to rewrap up my arm. One of the medics cleared their throat, Sherlock ignored them.

The male medic gently scooted in front of Sherlock and took over for him. The female medic was preparing a shot. My muscles tensed, so did Sherlock's.

"No more drugs." I mumbled.

"There have been too many drugs flushed through our system." Sherlock started to explain. The female nurse leaned over my arm and carefully pricked my arm. I crushed Sherlock's hand.

"Hey!" I shouted pulling away. The nurse pushed the medicine into my arm. Sherlock's eyes turned violent, and then they turned blank.

The male medic had stabbed Sherlock in the arm with a sedative. Both of us were slumping into a peaceful sleep, but neither one of us would let go of the others hand.

Come and save her, Mr. Holmes.

Come and play.

I woke up in a brilliantly lit room.

My vision was to blurry to make anything out. I could see different machines that were attached to wires, which were attached to me. I groaned as I realized I had an I. V needle sticking in my hand.

Stupid needles.

There were several stitches in my arm that had closed the long cut that would clearly scar. My stomach was wrapped to prevent the broken ribs from shifting any farther. My leg and wrist had been professionally casted, and my fever had broken.

As my vision started to come back into focus I could see a dark haired man sitting with his head bowed over me. His icy blue eyes were closed as he slept, his face looked childish and peaceful. He was wearing a zip up sweatshirt that was completely open. His stomach and chest were heavily bandaged, and he still looked like breathing hurt him.

"Sherlock." I groaned.

His eyes fluttered opened, clear and alert. I could have hugged him if the wires weren't holding me down. His hand went to his chest as he straightened himself out. "How are you feeling?"

"Shitastic. How long…?"

"A week."

"Are you…?"

"I'm fine."

"When can we go…?"

"Tomorrow."

I tried to sit up slowly. None of my injuries hurt, which made me question how much drugs were in my system. Sherlock helped me into a sitting position. Out of the corner of my eye Doc poked his head in the door. He made a small knock on the doorpost before entering. He smiled. "Hey, kiddo."

"Hey, buddy."

Sherlock nodded curtly. "John."

"Done biting nurses then?" He smiled at me. "The first day the two of you were in here he bit a nurse just because they wouldn't let him see…"

Sherlock smacked Doc across the back of the head. I giggled. Doc grabbed the back of his head. "Glad to see you too."

Sherlock still had scars on his wrists from the ropes and chains, I could see bruises running up and down his neck and arms. One of them at the top of his neck looked like a handprint. His eyes had bags under them.

"You haven't slept all week."

"Only when he was sedated." Doc muttered. Sherlock wacked him again. "Ow."

I laughed. Doc was smiling as he rubbed the back of his neck. Sherlock stilled looked skeptical, but slowly began to chuckle. The sound was music to my ears.

"Where's Mycroft? Why hasn't he gathered around my sick bed?" I asked.

"He was in yesterday. He had questions for Sherlock."

Sherlock raised his hand, but Doc ducked. Sherlock turned back to me. "He'll see you when you get back tomorrow."

"Sherlock, I can't…"

Sherlock ran his hand through his hair, and I knew what had kept him up. "I'm working on it."

"Did Mycroft say anything about it?"

"Jade, this isn't the time to be worrying about that. You need rest." Doc said gently.

"Did you explain to him why you have to be in the same room as me?" I whispered urgently.

"No." His deep voice responded.

"Why?"

"Your mother has…"

"Sherlock." Doc muttered.

"My mom has what?" I demanded.

"Your mother has filed a restraining order against me. She was very disappointed to hear that I allowed you to stay with me without informing her or Mycroft. She is even more disappointed that I allowed you to fall off the fire escape, which is why you've spent a week in the hospital."

"Mycroft didn't tell her?"

"No."

I glanced at my stitched up arm and pointed at it. He shrugged. "You fell on a car windshield and got cut up fairly badly."

"And the psychological need to be in the same room as my brother came from falling on the same windshield?" I punched him lightly in his right arm. The machine on the wall binged.

"You hit your head." He smiled a little. "I thought you were idiotic before, but now your board line loon."

"Brother?" Doc's eyebrows scrunched together. "Whose brother?"

"Her brother." A deep, official sounding voice said from the open door. Mycroft stepped in with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his expensive looking suit. "I see the information did not stay secret in the time you've spent together."

I surveyed my eldest brother. "It wasn't Sherlock's fault." I said defensively.

"No I imagine it wasn't." Mycroft sighed. "Still, it was a secret Father was hoping to keep." He glared accusingly at Sherlock.

"How did you only recently learn we share a father?" I asked Sherlock suspiciously.

"I told you my father left when I was a young boy. Too young to know him by his face, only by his name. When I visited you for the first and last time he was only referred to as 'Uncle'."

I nodded. "Mycroft would have known him."

My eldest brother shrugged his shoulders. "I knew I couldn't hide it from Sherlock forever, and your mother thought that by separating the two of you it would keep the secret safe."

"That's why you let me stay with you. It wasn't a random cousin agreeing to an aunt's request. It was an older brother who felt obligated." I said bitterly.

"That is not the whole reason." Mycroft said quietly.

Doc looked from Sherlock, to Mycroft, to me, he looked dazed. "So Jade is…?"

"Yeah."

He blinked several times. "Well crap."

"Psychologically I can't…." I started to inform Mycroft. He held up his hand.

"It's already been explained. We are going to spend the next month getting the two of you healed and then you're going back to America."

"It won't be healed in a month." I said coldly.

"If you apply yourself it will work. Until then it is best to keep our little secret in this room."

"So I've basically been moved from one Hell to another." I snarled.

Mycroft shrugged, Doc glared, and Sherlock rested his hand on the side of my bed. I wrapped my hand over two of his fingers. A silver object glinted in Sherlock's pocket. The green blowdart.

"So it's war then." I mumbled softly.

"A cousin's war." Sherlock agreed.


	16. No place like home

We had made it home after a month of imprisonment.

Sherlock walked behind me the whole way from the car up the stairs. Doc was trying to persuade me to use the wheelchair, but I simply hobbled up 221 B Baker Street's old wooden stairs and flung open the door into home. I constantly had to look back and make sure Sherlock was still behind me. He cracked a half smile.

Mycroft strode in behind all of us, tut tuting about how foolish we were being. I breathed in the smell of 221 B Baker Street, and it was Heavenly. I laughed as I touched the paint splatters on the walls, the books, the violin. Sherlock gently tugged it out of my hands. "No."

I grinned at him and poked him in the side. He rolled his eyes. Mycroft stood in the kitchen doorway watching us. He wasn't smiling.

"First thing we need to do is assess the damage." Mycroft spoke like a business man. I stiffened.

"What, you mean now?" Doc said with surprise. "They've just gotten back, they need rest."

I nodded gratefully at Doc, he gave me a small wink. Sherlock took a small step towards me and nodded towards Mycroft. "He needs to see." Sherlock said preciously.

I raised my eyebrows, Sherlock gave me a little nudge towards his bedroom door. I shook my head. "I can't." I said weakly.

"Jade."

"Sherlock."

We held eyes, he gave me a more firm nudge. I let a noise that sounded like a wounded animal. Sherlock stopped nudging me, I took a step away from his room and moved closer to him. Sherlock raised his eyebrows at Mycroft.

"Why don't you leave the room little brother?" Mycroft pestered.

Sherlock took a pace forward, and my hand involuntary snatched his arm. I felt irrational panic creep into my throat as if Moriarty could be lurking in Sherlock's bedroom. Mycroft mistook my tremble of fear for myself.

"You are fine now Jayden. No one is going to attack you here."

I looked at Sherlock knowing he would understand. It had always been the person who left the room that was beaten. My hand squeezed his arm tighter.

"Jade." I tightened my fingers. "I'll be fine." His words were firm as he walked away from my grip and into his bedroom. He closed the door determinedly behind him.

Doc must of have seen the panic register across my face. "Jesus."

I felt my knees start to give way. Sherlock must have sensed it or realized he couldn't be away from me either because seconds later he bolted from the room and was holding me up. I leaned against his shoulder. "Don't. Do. That. Again. Please."

I could feel him nodding. His hands instinctively began turning my head, checking for injuries that weren't there. Mycroft and Doc were both pale.

"Oh."

Sherlock nodded. Mycroft frowned. "As of right now it is impossible for you two to be separated?"

"Yes." Sherlock said coolily.

I went to sit on my favorite squishy couch, I made sure to keep Sherlock in my sights at all times. I flopped carefully on the couch. My arm cried out to me, but I said nothing. Sherlock plopped down after me.

I put my feet lazily in his lap like we were normal cousins, from a normal family. Sherlock poked my casted leg, the toes wiggled. He smiled, but of us stayed quiet. Mycroft cleared his throat.

"Well clearly the restrain order can't be carried out." He said half annoyed, half amused. "I have no idea what I'm going to tell your mother."

"The truth." I offered.

"You seriously want your mother to know the truth."

"I seriously don't want to leave here again." I said firmly.

"Your mother would be on the first plane to London if she knew the truth." Mycroft said with a roll of his eyes.

"Can't you just come up with something?" I pleaded. "Lie, say I'm staying with you. Something."

"I will give you a month. Each day we have to work on you sepertaing you two."

I looked at Sherlock. I couldn't imagine ever letting the spaz out of my sight again. He stared at ceiling as if it were suddenly the most interesting thing in the room. Mycroft left without another word. I didn't start breathing again until his footsteps were gone, and the front door had slammed. Doc made up some bad insult at Mycroft's expense, but I was focused on Sherlock. He folded his hands like he was praying and pressed them against his lips. He breathed in deeply.

"Hows your psych, bro?" I asked him in a bored tone.

"Imbalanced." He didn't smile, he didn't look miserable or enraged, he didn't look pissed or annoyed. He looked bored.

I was jealous of my cousin's…brother's ablity to shut off his emotions. He stood up slowly, letting his feet drag across the carpeted floor as he walked. He paced back and forth with his "Sherlock face" locked into position. Doc rolled his eyes. "I hate that face."

"I love that face." I watched Sherlock's icy eyes stay trained straight forward. His looked without seeing as he entered his mind palace. I gave a small yawn. Sherlock may have been able to avoid sleep, but I couldn't any longer. I kept Sherlock in my line of view until my eye finally drifted shut.

Moriarty was there. In my dreams. Waiting.

I tried to pull my arm away from a large pipe that hung from side of the wall, but it was chained to it. Even in the dream the cold metal bit unforgivingly into my wrist.

Moriarty was standing over a bloody Sherlock with a dark red sword rested on his shoulder. Sherlock was trying to rise to his knees, but the blood lose had weakened him. Moriarty raised his eyebrows in my direction. "Are you watching closely?" He raised the sword high above his head. "Or are you sleeping?" The sword came down in a deadly arch of light.

I woke up screaming for Sherlock, which was completely unnecessary because he was sitting in the lazy chair next to me. I screamed until Sherlock was directly in front me. He grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me until my voice was gone. I threw my arms around his neck until he complained he couldn't breathe. I gripped him tighter.

"Please don't ever die." I whispered.

"That's just stupid. Everyone…"

I strangled him in a hug. "I can't promise you that."

His chest wound was reopening. I could see dark red liquid starting to ooze through his bandages. But his eyes stayed focused on my arm, which was also starting to very slightly bleed. Sherlock rose from the couch after prying my arms from around his neck. I followed him into the bathroom where he began rummaging through medicine cabinets. He ordered me to sit on the toilet until he pulled out a fresh assortment of bandages.

"The doctor says to apply light bandages if your arm opens, depending on the severity of the opening."

I nodded dumbly as Sherlock bandaged the part of my arm that was bloody. I mumbled a small thank you.

Sherlock nodded in response and began cutting away his old bandages. It was a disgusting sight. The long cut had slashed through his abs, went pass his heart, and clear up to his shoulder. Blood spurted from it freely, Sherlock didn't even flinch as he examined himself in the mirror. I on the other hand paled.

"Well that's pretty." He mumbled. His placed a fresh lining of gauze over his cut and tried to wrap the medical tape around it with his one free hand and his mouth. I rolled my eyes and took the type from him.

"No." He said with annoyance.

"Don't be thick."

"I'm not sick anymore, I don't need you babying me…for God's sake will you stop that?"

He tried to swat me away, but his wound prevented him from moving fast. I grinned at him. He tried to shove me away, but I pinched his arm. He grumbled like a child.

I wrapped the tape until his abdomen was completely covered and the tape came back around his shoulder. He kept his eyes trained on my face.

"What was the nightmare about?"

"Guess."

"I never guess."

"Deduce then." I cut the last of tape off carefully.

"Moriarty."

Even the sound of his name caused me to flinch. I didn't look in Sherlock's eyes as I nodded. He began setting supplies back into the cabinets.

"And you." I said so softly I thought he hadn't heard me.

"Clearly, I'm fine." He said shortly.

"Clearly, you're not." I eyed the bloody bandages being tossed into the trash can.

He sighed. "You need sleep. WE need sleep."

"I know." I struggled to balance myself on my good leg. I limped out into the living room with Sherlock staying closely behind me. The sky was still dark outside. I took in its beauty for a long time. I hadn't seen the sky in about a month. Sherlock landed on the couch besides me.

I followed him gingerly trying to keep my leg elevated. Sherlock said nothing as I managed to swing my leg into a sitting position. We both knew the only we were going to sleep. I slowly put my head on his knee. He rested a hand on my shoulder.

"You should talk." I said softly.

"Why?"

"Your voice is soothing." I admitted.

"I don't know what to say." He mumbled.

"You never shut up under normal circumstances." I laughed.

"I hardly think this is normal."

I yawned.

"I don't understand how a voice is soothing."

"It's a deep voice."

"That means nothing. Only some people may find that soothing, others may find…"

There was warmth spreading across my shoulders. Sherlock was still babbling, but his hands brought a blanket down across my shoulders. His voice was raising and falling with emotion, I couldn't make out the words. All I could do was listen to the tone of his voice and fall asleep. I remembered Moriarty's final words about Sherlock being a lousy brother.

I shook my head on his knee. "You're a good brother." My head dropped as I fell fully asleep.


	17. Mycroft isnt such an ass after all

Four days later the first thing my lord and master did was demand his flash drive back.

I glared at him from behind the kitchen table where Doc was attempting to get me to eat. I told him I had given it to Sherlock fifty times before that, and I was getting really tired of repeating myself.

Sherlock had said nothing from the counter top he was perched on. A bowl of untouched cereal sat in his lap. Doc was trying desperately to get both of us to at least take a few bites.

"Mycroft's ruined my appetite." I said stubbornly. Doc scowled as Sherlock snickered into his corn flakes.

"And what's your excuse?" He demanded.

"I don't need one. I'm a grown man." He set his bowl of cereal a side. I pushed mine rudely forward, letting milk slush out of it. Mycroft's face was turning an ugly shade of red.

"I've been more than reasonable letting you stay here, I'd find it easier to let you continue living here if you told me where my drive was."

"Are you threatening me, Mycroft Holmes?"

"I'm promising you, Jayden Holmes." He said coldly. "If you gave it to the Black Lotus tell me now."

"I. Gave. It. To. Sherlock." I repeated.

Mycroft stared at Sherlock, who simply shrugged. "I wouldn't worry about it, Mycroft. You know what worrying does to your blood pressure."

"Jade, you have thirty seconds to tell me where the drive is." Mycroft said menancingly.

"Or what?"

He slid a small cell phone towards me with a single number typed across the top of the screen. I felt the blood rush into my face.

"I gave it to Sherlock I swear." I met his eyes.

Mycroft stared at me for what felt like hours. Finally he nodded. "I believe you."

I relaxed with a long sigh as he turned away. He flipped the phone in the air and caught it easily. "And finish your cereal."

I obeyed him.

Doc's mouth dropped. "Can I get that number?"

I glowered at him from my cereal bowl. My head shook so violently I thought it may fall off. Doc frowned. "Whose…?"

"My mother's." I said with my mouth full. No man should have that kind of power over a person.

Sherlock rolled his eyes at Mycroft. I gulped down the last of the milk in the bowl and pushed it as far away from as it would go. I felt sick. I groaned and face planted on the table. A month of hardly eating had made my stomach picky. I turned my head so I could see Sherlock. He was looking at his bowl like it was filled with vomit. I laughed.

"Shall we then?" Mycroft pointed at Sherlock's bedroom. The goal was to get Sherlock and me to stay in separate rooms for more than ten seconds. I watched Sherlock slid slowly off his perch. My instincts made me rise with him, Mycroft shook his head.

"I'll stay with Jade, and make sure…"

I cut Mycroft off. "Doc should stay with me."

Mycroft sighed heavily. "Why?"

"Because I like Doc, and I won't hit him in the face. I'm just looking out for you, dear brother."

Mycroft scowled, but Doc was trying to suppress a giggle. Sherlock took a step towards his room, my foot took a step towards Sherlock. Doc grabbed my good arm lightly. "Let him go." He said gently.

I saw my nightmares flash before my eyes as Sherlock walked away with Mycroft at his shoulder. I saw the blade slash through him, and his eyes go blank. I heard Moriarty cackle from Sherlock's room.

I made a mad dash for my brother's room. Doc's grabbed me around the waist, I tried to curb the instinct to crack him across the face. I fought against his grip, I heard myself screaming for Sherlock to come back. There was a soft bang, and Sherlock darted out of his room. His knuckles were raw.

Mycroft came out with his hand pressed against his bleeding nose. I silently praised my older brother. Sherlock crossed the room quickly. His eyes made sure I had no new injuries, and I checked his chest wound. Doc ran to help Mycroft.

"We suck." I muttered to Sherlock.

"You suck. I was doing fine until you started shouting."

"He was shaking like a baby." Mycroft said through bloody fingers. Doc handed him tissues until the bleeding stopped. I stared into Sherlock's blue eyes.

"I keep seeing you get sliced." I whispered urgently.

"Try to picture something else." He whispered back.

"Like what? You getting punched in the face every other day?" My voice cracked. "I can't do it. Mycroft, I can't do it. It won't work."

"Child, do you know why they chose to damage your mentality in that way?" Mycroft said cruelly.

"Mycroft." Sherlock snapped.

"It's so you want to stay here. In London, so when Moriarty finds our father he can claim all of us with ease. He is trying to burn the Holmes' family tree down, and you are making it easier for him by staying here."

Burn. Interesting choice of words.

"If you had three precious gems, and you suspected a thief would you really keep them in the same box?" Mycroft said coldly.

I slowly sank to the ground. Moriarty was coming back. He was going to hurt my father and my brothers again. I buried my face in my hands.

"What do we do?" I mumbled.

"We get the two of you away from each other."

Sherlock helped me to my feet. I tried not to lean against him pathetically, I squeezed his hand quickly when Mycroft turned away. I took a step near Doc who was pondering something. He looked carefully at me. "We could let them text each other."

It was simple, it was dumb, it was brilliant.

Both Sherlock and I stared at him in disbelief.

"What?"

"Nothing." Sherlock said shortly. He grabbed his phone from his pocket, and he took mine off the the kitchen table. He pressed it into my hand. I took a deep breath as Mycroft and Sherlock left the room.

**You ok? – Jade**

**Perfect. – SH**

**Not dying? – Jade**

**Only of boredom – SH**

**My hands are jittery – Jade**

**You're fine – SH**

I closed my eyes, I saw the deadly arch of light and heard Sherlock scream. I made myself open my eyes.

**Sherlock I'm freaking out. – Jade**

**Jade, I'm okay. – SH**

**I keep seeing you getting hurt. – Jade**

**I know, it's okay. – SH**

**No it's not. – Jade**

**If you scream like you did before I may knock Mycroft head off. Don't scream. - SH**

**Why? – Jade**

**It's how you sounded when – SH**

**When what? - Jade**

**Use your head idiot. – SH**

**When I almost got raped? – Jade**

Sherlock burst through the door with Mycroft trying to hold him back. Mycroft was holding him in a firm full nelson. Sherlock twisted his arms out of his brother's grasp violently. I tackled Mycroft off Sherlock. My body rolled painfully to the floor. My arm, my leg, and my wrist all screamed in pain at the same time. Mycroft sprung back onto his feet faster than a man his age should have been able to.

Doc was at my side in a matter of seconds, he checked the stitches on my arm swiftly. I heard him breathe a sigh of relief to discover they were fine. He helped me to my feet, Mycroft and I glared at each other.

"He's hurt you idiot! You can't hang onto him like!" I shouted. Sherlock grabbed my wrist determinedly, and Doc grabbed Mycroft firmly in what looked like a practiced army hold.

"You are so thick! He told me to hold onto him!" Mycroft was done being the contained, reasonable adult.

"You could have said no!" I pulled Sherlock's restraining arm off my wrist.

"I could have said no to a lot of thing." He snapped. "Including taking you in! Including taking him in!" He pointed his finger back at Sherlock. "I'm the eldest, I know I'm obligated to watch out for the two of you, but grow up! My mother beat me too, and I didn't have anyone to cry to. My life is shit too, and I don't fuss and moan to everyone that'll listen. I could have said no to my mother every time she raised her hand to me, I know I could have said no!" He shouted the last word so loudly the windows shook.

He shoved Doc off of him the minute his grip loosened. He ran his hand through his hair until it stood straight up. He looked like a mad man. Sherlock made no move to comfort his older brother, he simply stood off in the corner staring at Mycroft's face.

I grimaced as Mycroft paced. He was my brother too. I just favored Sherlock, but that was no excuse to neglect my eldest brother's feelings. "Sorry."

"What?" Mycroft turned his head in my direction like he may have heard wrong.

"I am sorry, Mycroft." I said slowly. "You're my brother, and I'm sorry. Even though most of it was your fault."

Hey, I tried.

Mycroft looked at my carefully. "Apology accepted."

I nodded at him slowly, I had the decency to look away from him. He let out a low sigh. "You both lasted longer. That was a little over thirty seconds."

Doc nodded. "One more time then?"

I was shaking my head. I didn't want to do it again even if I had contact with Sherlock. I leaned against his arm until Sherlock was shaking his head too. "No, I think that's enough for today."

"Sherlock, the faster…" Mycroft started.

"Brother, please." Sherlock was tired. His face was starting to lose its emotionless mask. His eyes looked like he hadn't slept at all the past four nights and knowing him he probably hadn't.

"One more time." Mycroft said decisively.

"Yes, master." Sherlock said sarcastically.

This time Doc and I left the room. I sat on Sherlock's bed and kept my eyes trained on Doc. He smiled.

**Why'd you apologize? - SH**

**It's what siblings do – Jade**

**Up until a week ago you didn't have siblings. – SH**

**Your just pissy because I'm the better sibling – Jade**

**You're. Not your. YOU'RE. – SH**

**Wood u plz stop lecturing me :P – Jade**

**Do that again, and I will come in there and smack you. – SH**

**For God's sake, Mycroft insists I should be more like you when it comes to apologizing. Pathetic. – SH**

**You should be more like me. I'm a very lovable person. –Jade**

**30 seconds – Jade**

**Jittery? – SH**

**No. I've left the room, so it'd be me getting hurt, not you. – Jade**

**Why would you say that? - SH**

**Because I don't care if I get hurt. I worry about you. – Jade**

**Jade, you've stayed in the room and been hurt before. It's just when we can't "save" each other. – SH**

**Now I'm jittery. – Jade**

I burst through the door so fast Doc didn't even have time to stop me. Mycroft looked up from peering over Sherlock's shoulder. I had to stop myself before I launched myself into Sherlock's arms. I knew he'd never forgive me for hugging him in front of Mycroft.

Mycroft nodded his approval as Doc came out of Sherlock's room.

"It would seem the two of you are healing nicely."

Sherlock nodded at his brother and slowly rose from his seat. I stared into his eyes. His phone buzzed in his hand.

It's still not good enough, is it? You're still not going to sleep tonight. – Jade

I don't need sleep. You do. –SH

Aloud I said. "Sherlock, please."

He glared daggers at me. I held his gaze. "We'll discuss it later."

I turned to Mycroft. I could see anger in Sherlock's blue eyes, but ignored it. "He doesn't sleep. He gets me to sleep, and after that he stays up all night."

Mycroft frowned. "There is no natural way I can force him to sleep, Jayden."

Sherlock gave me a hard glare before sitting down. I poked him as hard as I could in the arm. He growled.

"What do you mean he gets you to sleep?" Doc asked.

I waved the question away. "He talks."

"Talks how?" Mycroft asked swiftly.

"He just talks." I snapped.

"And you relax when he talks?" Mycroft inquired.

"Yes."

"Really, Brother? Hypnosis? That is clever even for you."

"She wasn't sleeping, she asked me to talk. I only humored the child, Mycroft." Sherlock said shortly.

"I suppose it took you less than ten seconds to fall asleep?" Mycroft directed the question at me. Sherlock sank lower in his chair.

"You voodooed me?!" I shouted.

"You needed sleep, and technically you gave me your consent."

"Shut up." I snapped. "You voodooed me."

"I simply placed you into a state you were more willing to sleep in."

"Sherlock!" I said in disbelief.

"Jayden!" He shouted back. "You needed sleep."

"So do you!" I picked one Doc's shoes and threw it at him. He ducked in his seat.

"Do you know hypnosis?" He snapped cleverly. "I could give you the gift of sleep, so I did. You're welcome."

"Well, dear brother if it's the gift of sleep you desire, I'd be more than happy to oblige." Mycroft said with an amused tone.

"No." Sherlock said angrily.

"Yes." I said back to him. "You owe me, and you need sleep."

"I am not letting Mycroft into my head."

"It's just for sleep, Little Brother."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

I grabbed his ear and twisted it back.

"Ow. Ow! Okay fine!"


	18. It's only for sleep

Sherlock rested his head in my lap.

His eyes stared angrily at the ceiling like he could blow it off with shear will alone. I shifted so my leg was more comfortable under my brother's head. His nose fidgeted.

"Could you get him to eat something too?" Doc trailed Mycroft around the kitchen.

"Yes, but not with hypnosis." He threw me an apple from the kitchen. I caught it and pressed it into Sherlock's hands. His stomach gurgled. He tossed the apple back in the air, I reached out an caught it.

"Sherlock, can't you just…."

"I'm sleeping for you. But that's all you're getting." He pouted like a child in my lap. I gave him the look of disappointment my mother used to get me to eat. I turned away like I wasn't going to force him to eat, but I let him see the disappointment linger in my eyes.

"Give me the stupid thing." He snatched the apple from my hand and bit it.

"Thank you, love."

"Shut up." He took several more bites of the apple aggressively. I didn't force him to eat anymore, I knew how upset a stomach could get after a month with no food. He set the half eaten apple off to the side.

"I don't want to do this." He said childishly. "You are asking me to give up control. I'm always in control."

"You could just fall asleep like a normal person." I whispered to him.

He closed his eyes. I saw his face contort with pain and anger. He opened his eyes with a loud sigh. "No. I can't."

I gently stroked the hair from his eyes. He pouted like a five year old, I felt guilt swell in my throat. My eyes found Mycroft, who had removed his expensive suit and was walking towards the couch in an old vest. He wiped his hands off on a rag.

"Maybe we shouldn't do this, Mycroft." Mycroft sat down in the chair across from us.

"Do you want him to sleep?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then shut up."

Doc was watching from the kitchen. He hadn't dared to come in and watch because Sherlock had been snarling for the last hour. He shook his head at his coffee. "Weirdoes."

Sherlock pulled a blanket over himself. I pushed a pillow under his head, he let out a small sigh. I stared at him hoping he'd drift off to sleep of his own will. He wiggled his toes under the blanket.

"You're not going to make him do the chicken dance are you?" Doc shouted from the kitchen.

"It doesn't work like that. I can't make him do anything he doesn't want to do." Mycroft positioned himself comfortably across from Sherlock, so his voice could clearly be heard.

"Cradle his head." Mycroft said gently. I put my hands under Sherlock's head. His hair tickled my palms. "John, if you would please pull the blinds."

Doc pulled the blind shut and darkness fell over all of us. Sherlock squirmed in my hands. A thought struck me.

"You could make it so we can be in different rooms." I said excitedly to Mycroft.

"It doesn't work like that, Jade." Sherlock muttered. "There's too much psychological damage."

"Oh." I put my forehead against his. Sherlock sighed.

"And now dear brother I need your permission to continue."

Sherlock hesitated. I felt his hand on the side of my face, I took my forehead gently away from his. He was staring at me with an emotionless expression, but his eyes had something in them I had never seen before. Trust.

"This is for you." He said firmly.

"Thank you." I mumbled so only he could hear.

"You have my permission, Brother."

"It's only for sleep." Mycroft said softly.

"I know."

"Close your eyes." Mycroft's words were gently and firm at the same time.

Sherlock obeyed, but his face contorted in discomfort. I stroked the back of his neck soothingly.

"Sherlock, you feel relaxed don't you." It wasn't a question. Mycroft was telling Sherlock he felt relaxed.

"Very relaxed. Don't worry about Jade, she's right here. You can feel her, she's right here. Relax, Sherlock. It's only for sleep."

His face began to relax, but there were still worry lines forming on his brow. His eyebrows knit together. "Sherlock, relax. You are relaxing, being in Jade's arms is very relaxing. It's only for sleep."

The worry lines were starting to vanish. I could feel Sherlock's shoulders starting to melt into my legs.

Mycroft continued to use the emotion of his voice to put Sherlock farther into rest. Over and over Mycroft repeated it was only for sleep. Sherlock's face was fully relaxed. He looked like a child. He looked peaceful.

Mycroft stopped talking. Sherlock was breathing deeply, his chest rose and fell heavily. He gave a small snore.

"Thank you, Mycroft." I said tenderly. "Thank you."

"He took much longer than I had thought, he was fighting me the whole time. He used to hate it when we were children."

"You used to put each other under when you were kids?" Sherlock snorted in my arms.

"We used to see how much we could make each other do. It was just for fun." He said it like he himself was in a trance.

"Who taught you?"

"Our mother." He said softly. "She wanted to see if we'd actually try it on each other. I regret to say I used it first."

"Was she really that terrible?" I asked him as quietly as I could.

"She used to find different ways to hurt Sherlock and me. Physically, mentally, we were her "experiments". It always worries me when Sherlock talks like her."

"Why didn't Dad take you guys with him?"

"He didn't win our court case. Mother got us, and Father left."

Behind us Doc let out a loud snore. He had been listening to closely to Mycroft's words. My eldest brother and I snickered. Mycroft actually looked like a normal person.

I leaned against the back of the couch. Sherlock gave a small groan, and shifted in his sleep. Mycroft sighed at him. "He looks as young as he was when he moved in with me. He showed up with a black eye, cuts everywhere, and dark bruises down his back. It was the only time I've ever seen him cry."

"He didn't cry once when we were together." I stroked Sherlock's hair behind his ear. "He was so calm."

"I suppose he checked you for injuries every time he saw you?"

"Yeah."

"He made sure you were always next to him before you went to sleep?"

"Yeah, but that's normal."

"Normal for a Holmes?"

I stopped. "Sherlock was worried about me?"

Mycroft said nothing. I looked down at the sleeping boy in my arms. He had been worried about me, maybe as much I had been worried about him. I kissed his forehead softly.

"Sherlock has refused to share with me your trails over the last month. Anything you care to fill me in on?"

"They just wanted to know about Dad and your flash drive."

"Did Sherlock give it to them?"

"I don't know." I said honestly.

Mycroft hesitated, but he didn't push me any farther. I was grateful to him, but I knew he wanted to know. I told him everything that happened, from when I had first arrived to when Moriarty slashed my arm. It took me an hour to recall our Hellish month, and at the end of it Mycroft was as white as a sheet. Sherlock moaned in his sleep.

"You let them break your arm?"

"Yeah."

"You were almost raped?"

"Sherlock saved me."

"I wouldn't have been so cold if you two had just told me." Mycroft gasped.

"There was nothing you could have done to change it." I said sympathetically.

He ran his hand over his face and through his hair. I could see pain cross his face, he looked over to a sleeping Sherlock. Mycroft put his hands against face and let out a long breath. I looked at Mycroft with tired eyes.

Sherlock slept on for a while longer. I was curious as to what Mycroft and Sherlock had done to each other as children. I finally got the courage to ask Mycroft, and he simply shrugged.

"Childish things. I was eighteen, he was eleven. I had a little more influence over him than he cares to admit. I made him think he was a pirate once. He thought it was glorious." Mycroft smiled. "I first used it on him to keep him from being so loud when Mother was in a mood."

Mycroft's stories were putting me to sleep. I nodded numbly as he continued speaking. He talked about Sherlock's wit, and how it always upset their mother. He talked about our dad, he even talked about a little dog they had. I could feel my head nodding forward, until I lay with my head pressed into the left side of Sherlock's chest. I could smell cleaning medication from Sherlock's chest wound, luckily I had fallen onto the healthy side of his chest.

Mycroft's voice wasn't as soothing as Sherlock's, but I was willing to be tired. I was willing to sleep. My breathing pattern changed as my head relaxed into Sherlock's chest.

"Relax." Mycroft was saying softly. "It's only for sleep."


	19. The mother of all Jades

Mycroft had carried me into Sherlock's room after I fell asleep.

I had nightmares, it was to be expected, but it didn't make it any easier. It wasn't a nightmare, it was more like a memory. I could remember the day I was almost raped more clearly without drugs coursing through my system. I remembered the dryness of his hands, the longing in his eyes. His breathing was hot on my ear, I could see the desire in his eyes, and in his pants.

I woke up tangled in sheets and blankets that all smelt like my older brother. I let out a sigh of relief and opened my eyes. Sherlock wasn't there.

I freaked.

"Sherlock!" I rolled out of bed and hit the floor with a dull thud. I felt the air wheeze out of my lungs, but I pushed forward. My hand closed around the door handle, which was of course firmly locked. One of Mycroft's tests.

"Sherlock!" I cried through door. If my leg was healed I would have simply kicked down the door, or gone out the window. Instead I threw myself against the door over and over. The lock finally gave out, and I crashed through the door. "Sherlock!"

Doc was holding Sherlock down by the shoulders, while Mycroft pinned his feet to the end of the couch. Sherlock was struggling against both of their grips violently. "Keep him still! He'll reopen his wound if he keeps moving!"

Doc turned his head and saw my pale face. His eyes dropped to Sherlock, who was still thrashing against him.

"Let me go!" He snarled. "Mycroft!"

Mycroft nodded at Doc with a loud "Now!" Doc released Sherlock's shoulders as Mycroft pinned him down. He placed his palms on Sherlock's shoulder and stuck his knee deep into Sherlock's thigh. Doc wrapped me in a hug.

"It's okay, Jade. See Sherlock's right there, go back to bed."

Mycroft was trying to tell Sherlock something similar, but Sherlock's hands were striking up towards his brother. Mycroft shifted positions and pinned his arms down. Sherlock lifted his legs at an awkward angle and both Holmes brothers fell of the couch.

"Jade!"

I ripped out of Doc's arms and stumbled over to my two brothers, who were tussling on the floor.

"Get off!"

"Be reasonable!"

"What for?"

Sherlock started crawling away from Mycroft, my eldest brother grabbed onto Sherlock's legs. Sherlock's blood was seeping through his bandages. He let out a small grunt of pain.

"Mycroft." I said forcefully. My eldest brother looked at me with curious eyes, he released Sherlock. Sherlock jumped the couch, he landed with a small thud, and pulled me from Doc's arms. His hands immediately searched me for injuries. I grabbed his hand.

"I'm okay."

"Why did you scream? I told you not to scream." He demanded.

"I'm sorry." I whispered.

"Jade, don't scream like that for me." He said harshly.

"I'm sorry." I repeated with tears in my eyes. Doc put his arm around my shoulders, I felt his lips brush the side of my head.

"I had a nightmare." I whispered for Doc's ears only, of course both my brothers heard.

"About what?"

I pressed my cheek to the side of his chest. He smelled like soap and clean clothes. I took a deep breath in. "Nothing."

My eyes found Mycroft, he mouthed the word "rape?", and I nodded. He grabbed Sherlock by the arm and whispered urgently in his ear. Sherlock nodded slowly. He said nothing, he only went into the bathroom, grabbed fresh bandages, and threw them at me. Doc rolled his eyes at my brother's rudeness and went to make coffee. Mycroft followed him.

Sherlock cut away his old sweaty bandages that were covered in blood, and disguarded them. I handed him the gauze, which he held against his wound. I wrapped the bandages around his stomach and up his chest. I started to wrap up his shoulder when he pulled me into a small hug. I wrapped my arms around his waist.

He smelt like rubbing alcohol and old couch. I buried my face in the non-injured side of his chest. He held me until Mycroft and Doc began turning away from the coffee maker. He pushed me away gently and held me at arm's length. I took in the amount of bruises that came down his neck and went down his arms. The bruise on his face was starting to turn an odd yellowish color. I touched the side of his face tenderly.

"Don't." He took my hand away from his face gently. I picked up his bloody bandages and threw them away. His wound was finally starting to close and was bleeding less profoundly. Mycroft walked back into the room.

"You should lie down, Brother. Your wound is finally starting to close, you shouldn't strain yourself."

"After the performance you just gave? Your over weight body almost ended my life, Mycroft. If my wound is strained it's your fault." Sherlock said smoothly.

"You should lie down, Sherlock." I pestered him. "Or maybe eat something."

"Jade, I don't need you telling me…"

"At least drink some water." I shoved an empty cup at him. He took it from and threw it over his shoulder. I glared at him.

"Sherlock!"

"Jayden!" He mimicked me.

I opened the fridge and threw water bottles at him until he finally drank out of one. He sipped out of one with a small smirk on his face. I stuck my tongue out at him

From the living room Mycroft's phone rang. He moved to answer it as Sherlock and I started a water fight in the kitchen. Poor Doc went to stop it and was sprayed in the face with the sink hose and had several water bottles dumped down his pants. He slipped and landed on his back.

Mycroft was turning whiter by the second. His phone was pressed against his ear so heard it was turning red. "Yes ma'am. No ma'am. Right here."

"Jade." He motioned for me to come to him with his free hand. I slid clumsily across the wet kitchen floor. I reached for the phone.

"Hello?"

"Jayden!"

I felt the blood rush from my face. "Hi Mom."

"You are so grounded for life." Her voice was amused, but firm.

"Yes ma'am."

"I've taken out a restraining order on your cousin Sherlock. I don't want you to see him anymore dear."

"Mycroft told me." I said softly.

"Why did you jump out of a fire escape? Do you know how dangerous that was?"

"Sherlock told me he was giving me back to Mycroft." I told the half-truth. "I didn't want to leave."

"Sweetie, Sherlock has a lot of problems I don't want you dealing with. He is not a good person to be around."

I stared at Sherlock, who was spraying water at Mycroft. I smiled. "Mom, he was okay when I was there."

"I want to talk to you in person." She said sternly.

"Well you're a whole ocean away." I panicked.

"Skype, my love. Have Mycroft pull it up."

"He just went into the shower, Mom. I don't know his password."

It was iceman353, but you didn't hear it from me.

"I don't hear the shower running." She said smartly.

Sherlock responded by spraying me in the face.

"Asshole." I grumbled.

"What?"

"Not you, Mom!"

Mom wasn't amused. "Five minutes. Have Mycroft pull it up."

"Yes ma'am."

I hung the phone up. Mycroft looked at me sympathetically. "What'd she want?"

"To Skype." Doc was picking himself off the floor.

"Now?"

"Yeah."

Mycroft glanced from Sherlock to me. "She's never seen my flat. As long as we hide the walls in the background." He frowned. "This may be more difficult than I thought."

"Sherlock can't be seen either." I said. "And I need him to stay where I can see him."

Mycroft sighed. "Get me the computer. Sherlock stay in the kitchen, please. Same for you dear doctor. Jade, put on a long sleeve shirt to cover your wound and bruises."

Mycroft pulled up Skype, Sherlock stayed hidden in the kitchen with Doc. My mom's face flashed on the screen. I waved. "Hey Mom."

I made the mistake of waving with my casted arm. She paled. "Does it hurt?"

"No! No! Not all." I hid my cast into my lap. I shot a look at Sherlock.

"Are you taking your medication? Is Mycroft making you take your pain killers?"

"Yes, Mother! Mycroft is giving me all my medication. There's no need to worry."

Mom took in my image for a long time. She sighed. "Have you found what you are looking for out there?"

"Just the usual stuff." I lied.

"Put your cousin on the screen, please." I could see her curbing her anger. I bit my lip. Now what did I do?

"Sure. Mycroft!" I shouted like he was in the other room.

"I meant Sherlock, love."

"He's not here." I said to quickly.

"Sweetie, the walls behind you have paint on them from your war game. Three colors. You keep looking off to the side like your worried I may see something, and you are far to calm about my restraining order against Sherlock." She said gently.

I didn't say anything. I shook my head as Sherlock started taking steps toward me. He wasn't wearing a shirt and his wound could clearly be seen. Along with his multitude of bruises. He stepped in behind me and in a clear, cocky voice said, "Hello."

"Hello dear nephew." My mother said not unkindly.

Sherlock leaned against me like we were the best of pals. His chest wound was proudly displayed before him, I saw my mother take in his injuries.

"Thanks a lot, Sherlock."

"And what happened to you, Nephew?" She said amused at my brother prickiness.

"I forget. Tell me again what happened, Mycroft?"

I elbowed him.

My mother raised her eyebrows. "What's going on?"

"Nothing." I tried to make it sound like a laugh as I pushed Sherlock away. "Mycroft let me say good-bye to Sherlock as you called. We just didn't want to worry you, so we decided to….you're not buying any of this are you?"

"Nope."

I pushed my brother out of view, but not before he tugged my sweatshirt over my head. Mom gasped at my multitude of injuries. Bruises were up and down my arms, my stitched up arm looked terrible, and the side of my jaw was still swollen.

"Damn it, Sherlock!"

"Young lady!" My mother shouted.

"Sorry ma'am."

My mother took my injuries in swiftly. "Your brother's wound is from the same blade as your's." She said shortly

"How did you know that?" I demanded.

"I didn't. You just told me. You also told me Sherlock has told you the truth about your father. Also if you landed on a windshield as Mycroft claimed the wound would be much deeper and your bruises wouldn't be so close together and small. Please don't think I'm stupid. Now what is really going on?"

I threw my sweatshirt at Sherlock, who was nodding at Mycroft. "Tell her."

Mycroft looked at him crossly. "Why?"

"Because honesty is the best policy." He said smartly.

I got out of my chair as Mycroft slowly slide into it. He looked my mother in the eye the whole time and explained what happened. I tried to murder Sherlock.

"Why did you tell her?"

"Because now she knows why you can't come home just yet. Your mother's smart it wouldn't take her long to find out."

Mycroft explained how Sherlock and my father had made enemies who were now trying to cut down the Holmes family tree. He told her how I was used as bait to get Sherlock to surrender and how we escaped. Sherlock cut in. "We were let go. We didn't escape, it was done on purpose. Don't be dull."

I kicked his shin.

"That hurt." He snarled.

"It was supposed to."

Sherlock put me in a brotherly headlock. I put my finger under his ear and dug it deep into the pressure point. He squealed and jerked away. We wrestled until he ended sitting on my back. I wiggled under his boney butt.

"Sherlock get off of her!" Doc shouted and pulled him off. Mycroft was talking over our prattling. My mom was growing angrier.

"I want her home. Now." She said hotly.

"Psychologically…" Mycroft started.

"It's nothing medication won't fix."

"Mom!" I shouted as Doc separated us. Sherlock giggled like a child as he sat up.

"It's his fault you were hurt! Forgive me for wanting my daughter home." She snapped.

"It wasn't his fault!" I shouted. "Sherlock saved me, Mom! He kept me safe while we were…"

"Is that why your arm is broken? Is that why you have a long cut down your arm? Is it? Is that the type of protection your cousin can offer?" She demanded.

"My BROTHER was there for me when I needed him to be. He didn't judge me on PTSD….well he did, but he does it to everyone…and my brother did what he could to keep me safe! It wasn't his fault I ran away and got myself kidnapped. It wasn't his fault I didn't answer their questions fast enough. IT WASN'T HIS FAULT!" I shouted.

The whole room was silent. I was breathing heavily. Doc, Sherlock, and Mycroft all gaped at me. I took a deep breath in. "It was my fault. It was my fault Sherlock got hurt."

Doc wrapped his arms around me so fast I hardly had time to blink. I felt the warmth of his shoulder pressing against my face. I saw Sherlock turn his head away from me. He was shaking his dark head.

"I think it's time to say good-bye." Mycroft mumbled. He closed the lid to the computer as my mom shouted at him.

"What?" I sniffed.

"You know it's not your fault." Doc said gently.

"Most of it was…" I talked into Doc's shoulder.

"Mycroft, John out." Sherlock said quietly.

"What?" Mycroft and Doc said at the same time.

"OUT!" He roared.

He shoved Doc and Mycroft out the door so fast they barely had time to protest. "You." He pointed at me. "Up. Right now."

I stood up on shaky knees, Sherlock gripped my by the shoulders and made me look in his eyes. "Don't say that again. Ever. Understand?"

"But…but Sherlock…" I stuttered.

"UNDERSTAND?! It wasn't your fault, you stupid child. Stupid, stupid child." He held me against my chest until I told him he was crushing me.

"Sherlock!" I gasped.

"You are such an idiot." He said softly.

I put my head on his shoulder. "My mother is going to be so pissed."

"I know."

I sucked in air through my mouth. "I love you."

"I know."


	20. Doc, Sherlock, Mario, Luigi, and I

Sherlock made me lie down before he let Mycroft and Doc in.

"Legally my mom can't take me away." I stated firmly. "I'm eighteen, I want to stay with Sherlock."

"Jade, you diagnosed with PTSD. You're mentally…" Mycroft elbowed Sherlock in the ribs. "Oof. Unwell." He finished angrily. "You're incapable of making decisions by yourself. In a court of law your mother's case would win. She already has a restraining order set against me."

I shifted my leg on the pillow so it was elevated properly. Sherlock studied me closely, he threw another pillow at me. I caught it and placed it under my leg, Mycroft had his face in his hands. He was the only one besides me sitting down. He wouldn't look at either of us.

"Mycroft?" I asked quietly.

"There is nothing I can do for you, child. I can try to talk your mother about letting you stay, but I would not hold your breath."

"She could run away again." Doc suggested.

All three of us Holmes pointed at my leg. Doc rolled his eyes, Sherlock muttered a string of insults under his breath.

"Shhh." I snapped at him.

Mycroft was already punching numbers on his cellphone. He walked out of the room with his cellphone placed against his ear. Sherlock was playing with the green blowdart.

"Are you ever going to give that back?" I joked.

He only smiled a little. Doc was huffing in the kitchen corner, his hands were jammed deep into his pockets. Sherlock got up to get a glass of water. I tried to roll off the couch after him.

"Sit." He commanded. "I'm right here."

I watched him go into the kitchen, sort through the fridge, move a jar full of pinkie toes, and pick out two water bottles. He tossed me the extra one and a pear.

"Drink and eat that." He said forcefully.

"Look at you being all brotherly." Doc chuckled. Sherlock threatened him with the water bottle, Doc laughed and ducked back into the living room. Sherlock noticed I wasn't drinking anything.

"Jade." He said warningly. I chugged the bottle and bit the pear. Mycroft came back into the room.

"So she does know how to eat." He said amused. I stuck my tongue out at him, he responded similarly. I looked at my brother hopefully. He shook his head. "She wouldn't budge, Jade. She wants you on the next flight out of England."

"And you said?" Doc asked.

"I said yes. Legally there's nothing I can do until Jayden's PTSD is cured."

I must have looked horrified because Mycroft chuckled. "Oh please, child. I have a plan, rest assured yo will not leave England until you and Sherlock can be properly separated."

"Well color me happy." I said doubtfully. It was a start, but I had no intention of leaving England, ever. Sherlock must have read my mind because he smiled a bit. I winked at him.

"Still we should continue moving you two in and out of rooms every hour. My goal is to have you both in different flats by the end of the week."

Sherlock shrugged, but I swallowed. I didn't want to leave Sherlock, but I knew it was the best I could hope for. Until my leg healed and I could run again.

"I have to go back to my own flat and collect some things." Mycroft said quickly. "I'll be back as fast as I can. Sherlock, Jayden, behave. Jade, I left some of your stuff with John. Stay with Sherlock, understand?"

"Clearly." I said with a bored tone. Mycroft rolled his eyes and walked out muttering about how I sounded like Sherlock. The thought of sounding like my older brother made me smile. Sherlock must have shared the same feeling because he was smiling too.

I looked toward Doc. "Where's my stuff at dear doctor? I'm incredibly bored."

Doc pulled a bunch of bags from his room. I scanned the pile for the biggest black bag, but to my disappointment I didn't see it. Doc pulled out several more bags before I finally saw my desired black bag. I pounced on it.

Well sort of. It was more like I fell on it.

Doc half laughed, half snorted as I pulled out a gaming system from the Stone Age. The one with the huge boxy shape that had consoles the size of small packages and short controller wires that connected to small square controllers with only six buttons. Up, down, left, right, select, start, B, and A. I plugged it into Sherlock's T.V.

Super Mario Bros. flashed across the screen. I pulled the pillow of the couch and propped my leg up. Doc looked at my game like a rabbi looking at a pork chop. I laughed and patted the ground next to me. Doc pulled the couch up behind me so the control wire would reach. I leaned on the couch while Doc grabbed the 2nd controller. "You can be Luigi." I informed him.

Doc absolutely stank.

"Doc jump. Doc. Doc you have to…DOCTOR!" I shouted as he died for the seventh time. Even Sherlock snorted at Doc's suckitude. The game's music informed Doc he had lost life. I glared at him.

"You. Are. So. Awful." I said shortly.

"You have to use the angles of the wall to…" Sherlock started.

"You know what, just take the stupid thing." Doc threw the control at Sherlock, but the wire wasn't long enough and it clattered to the floor. Sherlock rolled his eyes and sat next to me. I explained the buttons to him. Or started to, he cut me off after I told him how to jump.

"Oh please. I think can figure it out on my own."

He died within ten seconds.

"Use the angles of the wall, Sherlock." Doc teased.

"Shut up." He hissed. "Let me go again."

"Wait your turn." I growled. Mario leapt over mushrooms and tunnels.

"Jade, let me go now." Sherlock insisted reaching for my remote.

"Wait your turn, butthead." I pushed him away. He shoved me back. I narrowly avoided a firey death. "Sherlock!"

"Give it!"

"No!"

"Jade!"

"It's not your turn!"

"Will you just…"

"No! My game! Mine!"

Sherlock shoved me so hard Mario and I went flying. Mario was devoured by a large spotted flower. I stared blankly at the screen.

"You jerk!"

"My turn!" He pressed start on his controller. I made a lung for him, but he stuck his leg out to prevent me from reaching him. I tickled his toes.

"Jade…stop it…stop it now!" He laughed. "Immature brat!" Luigi died shortly after the tickling began. I snorted indignantly.

"Take that."

Sherlock snarled. I stuck my head out and barely had time to dodge one of the old couch pillows. "Someone's a bad loser." I teased.

"I didn't lose! I was sabotaged!" He snapped. His foot kicked out at me, I blocked it easily. He pounced.

"Don't you dare!" I shouted.

"Die child!"

"Arm!"

"Chest!" He countered as I swung at him. I pulled the punch at the last second only to receive a quick flick to the head. I hissed as pulled my good arm behind me and pinned it to my back.

"Who's the best?" He demanded.

I started laughing hysterically. "Doc is. He just beat the level."

Doc waved from the couch. He had taken over the game shortly after we started wrestling. Mario did his small victory dance which Doc mimicked. Sherlock look stunned.

"I used the walls." He said proudly.

I could hardly stay sitting up I was laughing so hard. Sherlock's ears were turning pink as he realized he had been out done by Doc and a famous plumber. I giggled until he twisted my arm harder.

"Get off!" I growled. His pressure lessened, but he didn't let go. I twisted my arm from his grip and saw he still looked stunned.

"I never lose."

"I hate to tell you this, bro, but if Luigi falls into lava it usually means you lost."

He looked at me with blazing eyes. "I never lose."

"You just did, Spaz."

Sherlock snatched the controller from the floor and pressed start so hard I feared for my game. Luigi pranced happily across the screen until a mushroom solider ran into him. Sherlock swore.

"You have to jump on them." I giggled.

"This is in no way accurate. What the game is suggesting is that a little Itilain man with a mustache complex is high on shrooms and is seeing them jump around everywhere."

"He's just sore that he lost." Doc explained.

Sherlock looked like he was about to murder us all. "I never lose."

"You just lost twice. Let a pro show you how it's done." I guided Mario threw Ghost King's castle and to victory. Sherlock's eye twitched.

"I think he's going to have a fit." Doc laughed. Sherlock played again, this time he made it to the very end, but was squashed by a falling wall. Sherlock let out a scream of frustration. I giggled and let Doc be Mario. He won with ease. Sherlock demanded we let him be the "red one" next time. I handed him my controller when it was his turn. He fell off a cliff. Doc was laughing so hard he had to excuse himself to pee. Sherlock waited until doc was out of the room before he admitted he didn't know how to jump. I pressed the A button and Luigi jumped on the screen.

Sherlock went through the level slowly and cautiously at least he made it to the end. He threw the controller back on the couch. "Simple."

I rolled my eyes. I was used to playing Super Mario Bros. by myself, but playing with Sherlock and Doc I realized how lonely I had been. Sherlock launched himself backwards onto the couch and watched as I played, occasionally he we reach down and shove me, causing Mario to jump at inconvenient times. I growled at him, but I secretly loved having my brother pick on me.

Sherlock waited for Doc to come out of the bathroom before demanding he bring back Chinese food. Doc was just happy to hear Sherlock was hungry so of course he agreed. He grabbed his keys and wallet and darted down the stairs. My own stomach growled. Sherlock snickered and shoved me again.

I played a few more levels before giving up and letting Sherlock play some more. He switched spots with me so he was on the floor, and I rested on the couch. Sherlock leaned his head back on my leg.

The doorbell cut through our peaceful evening. I rolled my eyes. "Looks like Doc forgot his keys."

"Think." Sherlock said tauntingly. I remembered Doc pulling them off the table.

"Who…?" I looked down at my brother. Someone cleared their throat behind us, I craned my neck around to see a woman standing in the doorway. I frowned.

"You left me the key last time I visited. Hope you don't mind." She was admittedly good looking. He voice was light, but her brown eyes were trouble. I looked down at Sherlock.

He hadn't looked up from the game, but I could see goose bumps forming at the base of his neck. "Irene." He said shortly.

She came through the door like a ballerina, she gave me a small smile that made my skin crawl. She reminded me of Ri. They both had the same aura of dominance. I poked Sherlock's shoulder.

"Two Holmes in one room, I can't tell you what I'm thinking right now."

I poked his shoulder harder. He brushed me away. She walked in front of both of us, blocking the television. Sherlock glanced at the woman.

"Not even going to say hello then?"

Sherlock shrugged. "I don't say hello to dull people."

"No, neither do I. That's why I was talking to the little cutie on the couch."

I blushed up to my eyeballs. "Is everyone in England horny?"

I knew better than to reach for Sherlock's protection. It not only showed weakness for me, but it showed weakness for him. I reach calmly for my controller, Sherlock passed it to me. Our hands touched. "We're okay." I told myself.

"How long has it been then darling, a year?" She spoke to Sherlock with a flirtious smile. Her shirt was cut a little to low for my taste, which forced me to simply peek around the woman and focus on the game. She leaned towards Sherlock.

"Jade, why don't you go in the other room, dear?" Irene spoke softly to me. I didn't know how she knew my name. Sherlock rose steadily he placed his hand on my leg like he was trying to help himself up, but accidently grabbed me by mistake. I caught his meaning. Stay here, Jade.

I pulled my hood over my head and pretended not to be listening to the two adults. The woman bothered me. She wasn't like a normal woman, she almost seemed like a female Sherlock. The way she looked at my brother lead me to believe they had a long history together, it didn't bother me that he had a girlfriend. It bothered me that she stared at him like a piece of meat. It didn't help that Sherlock couldn't wear a shirt because of his wound. She lightly touched his chest.

"I thought you were dead." She said in a low voice.

"Everyone did." He said shortly.

"Except for Ms. Hooper?" She said while letting her fingers dance over his bandages. He grabbed her hand and dragged her into the kitchen. I made Mario commit suicide so I could watch my brother in the darken game over screen.

"What do you want?" He said finally.

"To see an old friend. I've missed you, Mr. Holmes." She said it almost tenderly.

"Your timing is impeccable, I've been away for a while. Fancy you just happening to show up now." He was trying to keep her hands away from him.

"Yes, I've been told of your travels."

"By who?"

"By whom, Mr. Holmes."

He stared at her. "You're scared."

"Am not."

"You're trembling."

"You're not wearing a shirt, of course…"

"Irene." He said her name so firmly that both of us looked at him. She touched the side of his face lightly. He didn't push her away. "You didn't come willing, which is odd because you never do anything or anyone that you don't desire to do. Well mostly, you did need "protection" previously, which leads me to believe it's the same people you needed protection from, but your protection ran out, and you went to hiding. Ah, but here's the fun they found you, and in order to gain new "protection" you become their new lap dog. Get your hand off my face Irene I don't know where or who it's been in."

"Sherlock!" I protested at his rudeness.

"Shut up, Jade. This is one woman you don't want influencing your life." He went into the fridge, pulled out a water bottle, called my name, and threw it at me. "Now if you'll excuse me I have mushrooms to destroy. Good day." He gave a sarcastic smile and came back into the room. "Hit play, Jade, the conversations over."

I felt bad for the woman as she stood in the kitchen with her mouth slightly opened. Sherlock sat down on the floor and held his hand out for the controller.

"Don't you even want to know what he wanted?"

"Not in front of Jade. No."

I felt myself go white. I didn't need to ask to know who "he" was. I looked between my brother and his girlfriend. "I would like to know." I said quietly.

"No." Sherlock said firmly. "There's no point in hearing a horror story if you're already scared."

"He wanted to know how you were doing." She said softly. "Nothing else. He wanted to make sure Jade was still here."

The water bottle shattered in my hand. Water dripped down the back of Sherlock's neck and into his bandages, he didn't even pause the game. "Goodbye Irene."

"I'll be back, Sherlock."

"I doubt it, Irene." He said with no regret in his voice. She turned to leave with an expression of pain on his face. Doc walked through the door with bags in each arms. Irene passed him in a hurry.

"Was that…?"

"Ah, good," Sherlock said, still soaking wet, "food's here."


	21. Chicken soup for Sherlock

Sherlock had upgraded from bandages to stitches the same day I had my leg cast removed.

Sherlock had prided himself on keeping my leg set when we were in Hell together, and it had paid off. That and I drank about a gallon of milk a day, much to Sherlock's dismay. I rubbed circulation into my newly freed leg, Mycroft had hoped to have my leg still casted for awhile longer. Mostly until I had moved in with him, in case I tried to run away again. Forunately for him I still had my psychological leash held by Sherlock. I glanced at my brother, who was taking to his stitches like a duck to posinous gas.

"They itch." He said sorely as we drove back from the hosipital. The swelling around Sherlock's wound had finally come down enough for the doctor's to sow his skin back together. He tried desperately to scratch himself, but I flicked him in the head.

"No."

Sherlock grumbled softly about how we were all idiots. I rolled my eyes, I understood how he felt because my stitches itched just as badly when I first got them. Watching Sherlock try to scratch his I found my own hand trying to do the same to my wound. "Sherlock, stop it." I snapped.

He put his finger over his wound and ran it all around it to spite me. I growled at him until Doc gently grabbed my shoulder. "He's going to be more irritiable then usual. Those stitches may make him sick, and God help us if that happens."

"What are the chances he'll get sick?"

"Not high. Sherlock's immune system is good. He's just acting like a child now because he's uncomfortable. It'll get better."

Of course it got much worse.

The wound became swollen and infected in a matter of days. Doc refused to let Mycroft take Sherlock back to the hospital because the doctors there were idiots. Doc gave Sherlock a shot of pencillion and a shot of morphine to help with the pain. Every hour or so Doc would give me a rag of idione, Sherlock wouldn't let anyone else near him, and have me apply it to the infected area. The whole time Sherlock pissed and moaned like a baby from the couch.

"I want orange juice."

Doc poured him a glass of orange juice.

"Don't be dull. I said I wanted apple juice."

I could see Doc's hand tighten on the glass, but he poured him a glass of apple as I drank down the orange.

"Uck apple. Disgusting, I wanted grape."

I could see Doc getting ready to brain Sherlock. Sherlock had been pulling this for the last three days, I passed Doc a small piece of paper that read: I, Sherlock Holmes, agree that I ask for (insert juice name here) and did not ask for anything else.

Doc forced the note under Sherlock's nose. Sherlock rolled his eyes dramaticly before filling in the blank and signing it. Doc brought him a glass of grape juice.

"I. Asked. For. Milk."

Doc showed him the signed document.

"Not my signature. My "l's" do not loop so dramaticly. I refuse to drink." Sherlock brushed him away.

I was just finishing the disgarded apple juice when Doc slammed down the grape juice in front of me. Even though half of it spilled out I wrinkled my nose. "I hate grape."

Doc gave me a look filled with such rage I held my nose and finished Sherlock's grape juice. I spat it out when Doc wasn't looking, grape juice was far to bitter for me. Sherlock was calling Doc an idiot for bringing him milk when he clearly had an upset stomach. Doc brought me the milk, which I simply looked at. "Sure, Doc, I'll drink another one. Just give me a second to pee Nigira Falls, would you?"

After I had gone to the bathroom Doc confronted me. "Jade bring him a lemonade, please. I may let his infection get to his heart if I have to deal with him anymore."

I brought Sherlock a glass of lemonade. He sniffed the air. "It looks like pee. I don't want it."

I scowled at him. "It's not for you stupid, I wanted…"

"Give it to me. I'm sick, so hand it over."

"No."

"John!" He drew Doc's name out like a child calling for a parent.

"Fine, fine. Take it."

He grabbed it greedily. I stalked back into the kitchen, while pretending to be steaming, but when I saw Doc's face I laughed. "You got to know how to play the game Doc."

He frowned. "Think you could play him into eating? I know he doesn't believe in "digesting", but he has to eat."

I looked at my brother, who was slurping lemonade nosily. He was curled up on the couch with a blanket wrapped across his naked shoulders. Sherlock was normally pale, but he looked almost transparent sitting there. He had eaten only once the past two weeks when Mycroft and Doc held him down and force fed him. They had only done it once because I walked in and fainted. Mycroft had pinned Sherlock's arms above his head while Doc had held his throat and made him swallow.

"I can try something that used to work on me…" I let my voice trail off. It was a long shot, but I made Doc go out and buy me a whole chicken and some bouillon. I cut up veggies well Doc was gone, Sherlock was looking curiously over my shoulder.

"I'm not going to eat."

"I know."

"Digesting slows me down."

"You don't have to eat if you don't want to." I snapped at him.

He gave me a look. "Good."

Doc came in with the supplies, and I began to work my grandmother's magic. I found a pot big enough and began boiling the chicken and bouillion together. When it was done I tore the chicken off the bone and removed the skin. Doc grabbed a piece of it hungrily, and even Sherlock's stomach growled as the smell began filling the house. I threw in the veggies and the cut meat and let it all sit together. I placed the lid back over it, blocking the smell. Doc leaned over it breathing heavily.

"How long 'til that's done?"

"Two hours." I estimated.

"I'll call Mycroft."

By the time my eldest brother appeared the apartment smelt completely of chicken soup. Mycroft stopped in the middle of the doorway when the smell hit his nose. "Good God, that smells amazing."

I grinned from my place on the couch where Sherlock was leaning his full weight into my shoulder to prevent me from beating Doc at Donkey Kong. Sherlock's stomach gave another hungry growl. I tried to push him off.

"How much longer?" Doc whined.

"'Bout half an hour." Sherlock's weight finally succeeded in pushing me off the couch and onto the floor. I threw him my controller and went to check on the soup. I pulled the lid off and heard Mycroft come up behind me. He sniffed the air.

"Good Lord."

We made the time pass by showing Mycroft Mario Bros., it was interesting to compare the two Holmes brother's gaming style. Mycroft sat perfectly still, as if any sudden movement may make his character misbehave. Sherlock and I had the same style. Neither one of us could sit still, when Mario jumped so did we, when he was waking our toes were moving at hundred miles an hour. The timer went off.

I hopped off the couch and took the lid of the soup. Doc grabbed four bowls and passed them out. I wore mine as a hat, which for what ever reason really pissed Mycroft off.

"Take it off."

"No, it's cute."

"Normal people eat with that."

"I'm not normal."

"No, you're mental."

"Well then I'm supposed to act out!"

I did a summersault into the living area where Sherlock was sitting. Doc spooned soup into his bowl as Mycroft glared at me. My bowl clattered to the floor. "Come and eat Jayden."

"Not hungry." I folded my arms stubbornly.

"I'll call your mother."

"She already hates me anyway."

"She's been gracious enough to let you stay. Don't push it."

I walked into the kitchen behind him. "How did you…?"

"Classified. If I told you, I'd have to kill you." And as spooned soup into his own bowl I didn't doubt it. I grabbed the extra bowl off the counter and filled it to the brim. I was surprisingly straving. I turned the living room and smiled. The bowl I had left in the living room was gone.

I drank mine without a spoon, just to make Mycroft angrier. He sat still and lectured me on being a lady. I responded by burping so loud the room shook. Doc giggled.

Sherlock sat on the couch with his blanket ignoring us all. I put my feet in his lap and wiggled my toes. He snorted.

"So much for your plan." He whispered under his breathe.

"I guess you're too good for me, bro." I gave him a knowing grin. He scowled.

Mycroft left soon after, and I was saying good night to Doc I heard him whisper, "You gave it your best shot, Jade. I'm just glad you tried."

I hugged him around the waist. "My dear doctor, the game isn't over yet."

Around eleven at night Sherlock rose from the couch, convinced I was completely asleep. I turned my head ever so slightly to see him silently putting soup into the microwave with the bowl I had left on the floor for him. I smiled.

I had won the game.


	22. Awkco taco

I had a lot of awkward moments with Sherlock.

We had a hard time using the restroom while both of us still needed to see each other. There was a time Sherlock farted so loud all of Baker Street shook, and once I had walked in on him wielding a sword to cut up watermelon. But this time was by far the worst.

Mycroft had decided since Sherlock and I had been doing so well in separate rooms I was well enough to go shopping with him. I dragged my feet the whole time. In the middle of the store I sat down gripping my stomach in so much pain Mycroft bought me a cab and let me go home early. He gave me his smart phone because mine had died.

And that's when I walked in on Sherlock, tied to a chair completely naked. Blood rushed into my face.

"I'm sorry! I didn't realize you were busy! Holy akco taco! I'll come back…"

"Jade." He snapped.

I wasn't looking at him. I was too busy looking at the nonexistent bug on the wall. My hand rubbed the back of my neck in embarrassment. I noticed something lower on the wall. A dent, a small Sherlock fist shaped dent. My brain registered a plan and quickly I reached into my pocket. Sherlock was shouting my name. I twisted around in time to see a hulking man grab me around the arms, pinning them to my sides.

"Oh, bullcookies."

The man hoisted me into the air and brought me in front of Sherlock. I struggled against his grip until he turned me around to face my brother. "Hey Sherlock. You'll never believe what happened to us at the store. Mycroft bumped into this really fat lady and…"

"Jade." He said sleepily. "You remember Irene."

I nodded. The massive man's arms were squeezing my wound too tightly and blood began pouring through the stitches. I cringed, so did Sherlock.

"Well her assistant showed up at the flat." Sherlock said slumping forward.

"Her assistant has a great taste in work out diets." I struggled harder against the man's grip.

"Oh he's not her assistant, my love." A woman stepped out from the kitchen with an apple pressed against her blood red lips. "And I prefer lover if you don't mind, Mr. Holmes."

Sherlock managed to snarl as she stroked my cheek tenderly, she produced a small needle. After almost being raped, after being tortured, after watching my brother get beaten bloody, I had enough. I yanked Mycroft's phone out of my pocket and turned on his "ultra flashlight" app. I blinded the massive man holding me, hit him between the legs, and grabbed the needle from Irene's lover/assistant. I sank it deep into the man's chest. The effects were immediate, and as he started to sink to the ground I kicked him full in the face. He flew down the stairs. I slammed the door behind him.

The new woman had Sherlock by the throat. I picked up the vase that sat near the door and Sherlock's door. I twirled in my good hand. "I'd drop him if I were you."

"You think I'm scared of a girl with a vase?" She pronounced it the fancy way. The way that rhymed with gauze.

"I think you're scared of a girl with a vase." I pronounced it the normal way and threw it at her as hard as I could. As I expected she ducked. I tackled her away from Sherlock and drove my fist into her nose. She crumpled like a sack of bricks. I wanted to kick her over and over in her face.

I settled for getting Sherlock's handcuffs off the counter and slapped it on her wrists. I growled at her as she laid unconscious on the floor. I turned my attention towards my brother.

"Sherlock!" I cried.

He didn't say anything, he only grunted a little. His dark head rested against his chest, I grabbed a blanket of the couch and covered him. Sherlock looked like he was barely breathing, I examined his bonds.

They were expertly done. His upper forearms were bound tightly to his chest with fishing wire that dug into his wound and made it bleed. His hands were tied with the same kind of wire. The knots were indescribable, they weren't like any my dad had showed me. I took his hands in mine and noticed his naked back was covered in dark welts. I felt tears spring into my eyes. It had happened because once again I hadn't been there to protect him. If Sherlock could read minds he'd call me an idiot.

I reached for a pair of scissors.

"I wouldn't if I were you."

I glared coldly at the woman on the floor. "Why not?"

"Those are special knots. Designed to keep tightening if the captive struggles until eventually it cuts into their main artery. If you try and cut them they'll tighten instantly, but by all means you can cut his forearms free."

I snarled at her. "How do I…"

"Where is the flash drive?"

I cut Sherlock's forearms free and he slumped forward a bit. There was serve swelling along his windpipe that left me concerned, until his eyes started fluttering. He tried to sit up, but his hand restraints prevented him from moving too far. He groaned.

"I gave it to my cousin." I said shortly, remembering what Mycroft said about keeping the secret. The woman laughed.

"Well according to him he gave it to Ms. Jade Holmes, but there are an awful lot of drugs in his system right now, so there's room for error. I'd settle for the location of Mr. Landon Holmes."

"How did you sneak up on him?"

"He thought it was you, coming through the fire escape. Bit of a nasty shock for the poor dear."

"Shut up." I commanded forcefully.

"Tell me where he's hidden the flash drive and I'll tell you how to free him." She taunted.

"You really think he tells me anything?" I growled.

"I think he tells you everything." She replied smartly.

I was crying. I couldn't help it, my brother was the one who had the plan not me. He was the one who could talk his way out of any mess without trying, he was the smart one. I was just the…

"Jayden." Sherlock muttered.

"Hey." I said softly.

The woman made a small cooing noise. "He's very strong."

"Jade, just look at the knots. It's not hard to…my blood…"

I barely had time catch him and keep his bonds from tightening. He grunted. I slowly let him sink down and rest before I took another look at his hands.

I started gently with the lowest knot and tried to think like my father. I kept Sherlock's hand close together to loosen the pressure. Slowly the knot came undone. Sherlock moaned.

"They'll get tighter as you go along, dear. He's in for a painful ride."

I pulled and unknotted ropes until I was down to the final three. Sherlock's wrists were sore and swollen. He clenched his teeth, and I made it through the next two. Sherlock grunted at the final one's tightness.

"Sorry Sherlock."

"You don't look at him like he's your cousin. I think you care much more about him than that."

I ignored her. As I loosened the last knot Sherlock slumped forward onto my shoulder. His hand managed to continue to grip the blanket that was covering him. I carefully lead him to the couch where he could lie down. He rolled onto his side, and I saw clearly for the first time the riding crop induced welts along his back. I let out a choked sob.

"You like at him like a dog looks at their master. No wonder Moriarty is convinced you'll never leave London."

Something in my head snapped. I picked her up by the shirt and slammed her as hard I could into the wall. The plaster in the wall broke. I made an odd hissing noise that came from the back of my throat. There was panic in her eyes.

I dialed Mycroft's emergency cell number from his own phone. He answered after the sixth ring.

"What?"

"Hey, so I just got home and there are two bodies at the end of the stairs. If I had to guess I'd say the attacked Sherlock and got more than they bargained for. Can you send an ambulance for them? Sherlock and I are fine. Sherlock just doesn't want to be bothered, okay? What? Oh yeah the big man is fine, it's the woman. Sherlock must have accidentally thrown her down the stairs too hard. Yes. Yes. She'll live, probably won't be able to walk again."

I flung the door open and flung the woman down the stairs.

Twice.

Three times.

Four times.

Five.

I lost count after that.

Sherlock finally moaned so loud I let the woman crash to the floor without going back down to retrieve her. I went to my brother's side. Sherlock looked nothing like the brilliant Sherlock Holmes that sloved some of London's hardest cases. He looked like Sherlock Holmes, the man who was running a fever of 105, the man who was bleeding from both his back and chest, he looked like Sherlock Holmes, my human brother.

He said nothing as I went into his room. I could hardly stand to be away from him, the familiar panic creeping into my throat that he would be attacked. I grabbed his sweat pants out of his top drawer and gave them to him. I prayed he was strong enough to pull his own pants up.

"Sherlock, here. Put these on if you can." The drugs in his system made him groggy, but he was still able to put on the sweat pants. He slumped back against the couch. I went into the bathroom and came back out with medical supplies. I stuck a thermometer in his mouth, he tried to spit it out.

"Sherlock." I said firmly. He shook his head ready to spit it out. "Sherlock please."

He waited for the bing before spitting the thermometer in my hand. It was a hundred and five. I ran into the kitchen and got water, ice, and a rag. I dumped ice water on the rag. Sherlock was wrapped tightly in the blanket, shivering.

I passed him ice water. He refused to drink anything, until I put it to his lips. He sipped only a little. I put the icy rag against his neck, but he flinched and pulled away. He buried his neck into the blanket. "I'm freezing."

"You have a fever of 105. It's going to make your body feel cold." I remembered Doc talking about it. "I need to call Doc."

I reached for the phone.

"No!" Sherlock kicked it away. "I don't want him to know." He rambled like a lunatic. The drugs were making him drool a little on the side of his mouth.

"Sherlock. Sherlock, okay." I tried to calm him down. I patted the rag on his head and muttered softly to him, telling him it was okay.

"I don't want anyone to see…"

"Shhh, I know, it's okay."

I understood how he felt. After almost being raped I hadn't wanted anyone to see me, not even Sherlock. Sherlock had practically been mind raped, I wasn't about to push him too far. I dabbed the rag around his face. He grunted. I made him take more water, I had to threaten to call Mycroft before he actually drank something. I made me him drink the whole glass.

He curled into a small ball with the blanket around his shoulder and convulsed onto the floor. I grabbed Mycroft's phone off the table, I needed medical help without alerting Doc or Mycroft. I knew I loved my brother when I dialed my mother's phone number. I sat down next to him, he put his head in my lap. I stroked the back of his neck soothingly.

After several rings Mom answered. "What do you want?" She demanded.

Oh right. Mycroft's phone.

"Mom? Sherlock's really sick and Doc's gone. I need some of your nursing wisdom."

"How sick is he that he needs you to take care of him?"

I tried not to throw the phone across the room. "He's got a fever of 105, and the wound on his chest is bleeding pretty badly. Mom, he's puking up everything, and he hasn't eaten anything in two weeks."

"Call a hosiptial. He needs professional help, not a child."

I almost gave up. "Can I do anything to bring his fever down?" I asked desperately.

"Bathe him in cold water. Not icy, but cold."

I hung up the phone.

I pulled the blanket from around a Sherlock's shoulders. He moaned the word no, but I quickly threw it aside. Sherlock glared at me.

"Come on." I helped him to his feet. Working together I managed to pull Sherlock into the bathroom, I started the tub running. Sherlock leaned against the wall. I helped him into the tub, sweatpants and all. The minute he hit the water his body started shaking furiously, and I worried my mom may have lied to me. I quickly called her back.

"Jayden Grace…"

"Sorry Mom bad connection. Sherlock is in the tub, but he can't stop shaking. I don't know what to do."

My mom stayed silent for a second. I heard rummaging in the background. "I will tell you exactly what to do if you promise to come home in two weeks. I'll even fly out to pick you up."

The rummaging had been her grabbing a recorder. I knew this game. If I promised to fly back out with her and then refused she could accuse Sherlock of kidnapping me. I didn't hang up the phone, but I set it aside.

"Sherlock." He had his eyes closed painfully. "Sherlock, I need to call Doc."

He shook his head. He was scared of the world seeing him in pain, especially Doc or Mycroft. I stroked his black hair out of his face. The tub was turning red from his blood. Could Sherlock die from an O.D.? Should I just call Doc? Could I give up being with my brothers just to save Sherlock from the pain of humiliation?

The answers to the questions were as follows: Yes, no, Hell yes.

I picked up the phone again.

"I promise to go home with you in two weeks. Now tell me what to do."

She made me explain everything. I told her about his chest, the drugs that were thick in his blood stream, how he had thrown up, the bruises all over his back, and how he couldn't stop shaking.

"Take his sweat pants off, drain the tub, clean his wound, but don't rebandage it, and then fill the tub with a little colder water."

I obeyed everything she told me to. It was awkward taking of my older brother's pants, but at this point I was willing to try anything. I quickly cleaned his wound and refilled the tub, he started shaking again.

"Mom, he's shak…"

"Give him ten minutes and he'll stop. Try to make him sip some water."

I got him more water and made him sip it. He looked like a little boy when his jaw tightly clamped in protest. "Come on Sherlock."

As he drank slowly his body stopped shaking. I took his temperature. 102.

I pressed the phone to my ear. "His fevers down, now what?"

"Take him out and get him to lie down. Don't let him wrap himself up in any blankets if he's still that warm, Jayden. Get him to eat and drink every forty five minutes if he doesn't throw up."

"Yes ma'am." I hung up the phone.

Sherlock leaned all his weight into my side as I brought him to the couch. Gently I laid him down, his hair was sticking up at all angles. If he hadn't been so sick I would have smiled at how childish my brother looked. I turned to get him new pants, but his hand caught mine, just as mine had caught his in our old cell. I looked at his bedroom.

"Damn, I wish I had the force." I squeezed his hand and ran into the other room as quickly as I could. I yanked some fresh sweatpants out of his drawer and brought them back to him. With a little help he managed to pull them up. I scooted on the end of the couch, and he put his head in my lap.

"No one has ever taken care of my when I was sick." He grumbled.

"I thought Doc did once."

Sherlock shrugged. "I didn't need him to."

"I know you didn't."

"I needed someone this time though." He said it so softly I almost missed it. "That's the difference. Even when I was little I took care of myself. Why do I need someone now? Why does it make a difference whenever you're around? There's nothing spectacular about you."

"Gee thanks."

"Shut up. I'm thinking."

"Don't hurt yourself."

He looked at me with icy blue eyes, he had a small smile on his face that most people would have missed. I grinned back. I could feel his body relaxing against my knees.

"You're a stupid child."

"You're a stupid adult."

"I'm brilliant."

"Maybe a little bit."

"Maybe a lot a bit. Don't be rude."

I snorted. "You suck at Mario."

He yawned. "Nah-ah."

"Yes-ha." His yawn infected me. Sherlock shivered, but I knew better than to give him a blanket. No matter how much I wanted to. His body was still burning up.

"Sherlock, what'd they want from you?" I yawned again.

"The drive, moron."

"Yeah, but why? What's so important that's on the drive? Is it really national secrets?"

Sherlock shook his head. "No."

"What is it?"

"Holmes secrets."


	23. The return of Lucky Holmes

I had the weirdest dream.

Sherlock was sprawled out on my old couch back in America. His arms were folded across his chest in an angry fashion. He had a black eye and a long cut on his neck. Mycroft stood behind him in our kitchen talking frantically to a man with gray hair and icy blue eyes. Sherlock looked about my age, and Mycroft looked about mid-twenties. A small girl was trying to get Sherlock's attention.

The little girl was chattering and poking him constantly in the arm. He tightened his grip on his own arms, but said nothing to the child.

"Jayden, don't bother Sherlock if he wants to be left alone." The gray haired man grumbled.

"He hasn't said anything since…it happened." Mycroft was saying as the child ignored her father. She pulled herself up onto the couch and plopped on Sherlock's knee.

"Jade." The man said warningly. The smaller version of me stared at Sherlock with big black eyes.

"How come you got black around your eye?" The four year old asked.

Sherlock said nothing. The gray haired man pulled Mycroft out onto the porch and slid the glass door shut.

"Did you fall off your bike?"

Still nothing.

The girl poked his knee. "I fell off my bike. It hurted real bad. See?" She showed him a small scrape on her knee. He rolled his eyes. "It's not as bad as yours though, but Mommy gaved me a bandaid and it's all better." He muttered about the things his "mummy" gave him. The little girl's eyes lit up. "I'll be right back."

She darted up stairs without seeing her older cousin roll his eyes and sigh heavily. His hand unconsciously went to his neck where the cut still bothered him. His hand tightened into a fist. The little girl came back in.

"Here." She said suddenly shy. In her small hand there was a band aid, Sherlock's eyes widened a little in surprise. Gently he took it and put it in his pocket.

"Thank you." He said so softly she almost missed it.

"You talked!" The girl cried happily and crawled into his lap. "You talked, Sirluck!" She cried as if she were afraid he hadn't noticed.

He picked her off his lap and set her at the end of the couch. He looked around to make sure Mycroft wasn't around to hear him. "Sherlock." He said slowly.

"Sirluck." The child said with the same tone.

"Sure."

"Sure."

"Lock."

"Luck."

He wrinkled his nose. "Lock."

"Luck."

"Sherlock."

"Sherlucky."

"Sherlock."

"Lucky." The child crawled back into his lap, ignoring his grunts of protest. "Lucky Holmes."

"Stupid kid." He muttered, but the corners of his lips betrayed a small smile.

"Stupid is a mean word." The girl grumbled as she leaned back into his chest.

"Not if you're acting stupid." He growled.

"Who's acting stupid?"

"You."

"You're acting stupid?" The child yawned.

"No, you are."

"Why are you acting stupid?"

"Jade."

"Lucky."

Sherlock sighed and wrapped his arms around the girl before hoisting her in the air. "I think it's time for a nap."

"I'm not tired." She yawned again.

"Clearly." He muttered. He half threw, half set her down in her bed. She giggled and raised her arms for him to do it again. He obliged several times. At last the child was satistfied and curled into a small ball on the bed with a yawn.

"Goodnight Lucky Holmes."

He tried to come with something clever to say, but he knew he couldn't sas a child. He noticed a tiny hamper and a helmet sitting in the corner. "Goodnight Jade Holmes, maybe tomorrow we'll try a new experiment."

I woke up with Sherlock sleeping in my lap. I gently reached down and felt his forehead, happy to find his fever had cooled. I looked at the clock, it had been an hour since we had fallen asleep. I carefully wiggled out from under him, he groaned, but let me up.

I got him a small cup of water and some soup. As I helped him sit up he noticed the food sitting on the table. He grabbed his stomach and shook his head.

"Sherlock."

"Not interested."

"You'll only get sicker."

"Sick is for the weak, I don't get sick."

I stopped myself from pointing at the puke on the floor. I bit my lip. "Please. Lucky, please."

I knew I could have two reactions from Sherlock at the mention of his old nickname. Rage, and affection. Naturally I hoped for the second one, but expected the first.

His jaw unclenched a little, and I passed him the bowl of soup. He scowled at it, but picked up the spoon and sipped it slowly. I passed him the water. He drank only a little. I didn't push him.

"You were cuter when you were younger." He grumbled.

"You were all gangly and all elbows." I laughed. He snorted indignantly.

Sherlock managed to keep down the soup and water, so in the next hour I gave him crackers. Then fruit. Then bread. He kept everything down. I felt his forehead again. "I think the worst of its passed. Can I tell Doc it's safe to come home now?"

"How'd you get him to stay away?"

"I told him you were finally eating and if he'd come he'd ruin everything."

Sherlock nodded approvingly. "Who was on the phone when I was in the tub?"

"1-800-DOCTORSHELPLINE." I tried to joke.

"Who did you talk to?"

"Not Mycroft or Doc, I swear."

"Well then that just leaves…oh." His blue eyes found my face. "Your mother."

I shrugged. "She told me exactly how to keep you healthy?"

"At what cost?"

I said nothing.

"Jade. Your mother doesn't hand out "free-be's"." He quoted the American word. "Tell me."

"Guess."

"I never..."

"Then notice, Sherlock!" I snapped. The look on his face told me had figured it out.

"Give me the phone." He said firmly.

"Why?"

"I need to make a call. Hand it over."

"To who?"

"Guess."

"I never… Oh Sherlock, there's still drugs in your system! You're not well enough to…gimme back that phone Mister!" I lunged for him, but he was to fast.

"Mycroft?" Sherlock locked his arm out, keeping me at bay. "Something's happened, it's got to do with Jade. Hurry if your nonworking diet will allow you." He clicked the phone.

"What the Hell was that for?"

"As much as I hate to admit it Mycroft is the one most suited to fix this. He has…connections."

"Sherlock, my mother will go to war with Mycroft if she has to."

"Then she'll go to war with all of England."

"It won't stop her." I said bitterly. My brother looked at me with raised eyebrows.

"Once Mycroft gets here we'll discuss it. I'm sure he's more than capable of handling a deranged loon. Lord knows he works with enough of them."

"Sherlock…it won't make a difference." I leaned into his shoulder. I half expected him to shove me off, but he said nothing. He hardly moved. I just wanted to spend my last two weeks with my brothers in peace. I didn't notice I was crying until Sherlock pointed it out.

"Quit crying. You like incredibly unappealing when you cry. Mycroft will fix this and then I'll have to spend more time with you and your pathetic weeping." He flicked my head. "So just stop."

"Yes, Sherlock."

"You're going to be fine."

"Yes, Sherlock."

"I'm not going to let them take you anywhere, alright? How about that?"

I couldn't stand it any longer. I didn't care if he'd hate me, or if he'd be mad, I hugged my brother for all he was worth.

"Thanks, Sherlock."


	24. In which I become suicidal

I hated Sherlock more than anything in the world for telling Mycroft about my mother.

Mycroft sat with his hands pressed against his lips, his bright eyes were trained on me as Sherlock told a made up story that was admittedly really convincing and ended with the truth about me calling Mom for help. Sherlock ended with a small nod and the word moron directed at me. For retaliation I pointed out how much Sherlock and Mycroft looked alike. Sherlock's eyes narrowed.

"Is there anything we can do?" Doc asked with his usually concerned manor that just made me want to ruffle his hair and give him a cookie. Doc noticed me staring at him. "What?"

"Nothing, you just underestimate the psychoness of my mother. Cookie, Doc?" I held out a tray of fresh chocolate chip cookies. He took one gratefully, but wouldn't let me ruffle his hair.

"There's nothing WE can do, but perhaps…" Mycroft took a cookie and his phone. I listened to his footsteps disappear down outside. Sometimes I wondered if Mycroft had every phone number in the world.

Sherlock came in from the kitchen with a cookie crumb beard and a cup of coffee. I gave him my best stink eye. His stuck his tongue at me. I flipped him off.

"Oh no. A little American girl with the arm strength of a tulip is mad at me! Whatever will I do?" He flopped down his chair dramatically. "Quick John! Pass the liquor, I don't think I have much longer before I'm murdered in my sleep, and I want a final drink."

"Seriously Sherlock? You and Jade are going back to the constant anger and rage towards each other? Surely you can't be serious."

"I am serious, John, and don't call me Sherly."

"Sherly Holmes, the greatest female the detective who ever walked the street corners. And guess what boys she's cheap." I said in my best announcer voice, I added a small whip crack at the end of it. "I must admit Sherlock, you've got the legs for it."

"For what?"

I thought Sherlock was kidding until Doc mouthed the word virgin behind his back. I gave him a confused look. "Aren't you two…um…?"

Doc's face flushed. "No!"

"Damn. Here was I thinking I'd get a new brother in law."

"WELL YOU'RE NOT!"

I laughed at Doc's red face. He straightened indignantly and swatted the back of Sherlock's head as he walked pass him into the kitchen. I sat across from Sherlock with my arms crossed over my chest. "Who's Mycroft going to talk to?"

"How would I know?"

"I thought you knew everything."

"I notice."

"Sherlock, aren't you even a little curious?"

"It's not my problem if you get shipped back to America."

"Sherlock!" John cried.

"I've told you before, I'm no angel. Quit looking for them in me." He said cruelly.

I didn't understand how Sherlock went from overly defensive of me to a complete asshole. I shook my head at him with anger in my eyes. I had wanted to spend my limited time with him, but now Mycroft's phone call seemed more important. I made my way toward the window. My arm was still in a cast, but it couldn't be too hard to climb down the fire escape.

I ducked under the window sill, while ignoring Doc's protests. Mycroft was directly below with his phone pressed against his ear. I tiptoed down the rusty stairs, until I was within earshot of my eldest brother. I wrapped my legs carefully around the railing and dangled off them by my feet. Mycroft was talking urgently to whoever was on the other end of his phone.

"I can have it to you by the end of the week. All you have to do is sign it."

Silence.

"Yes. Her mother…well you married her! I see. She is in distress."

Silence.

"Too dangerous." Mycroft said shortly. "Yes, of course she does. No. No. I am thinking of her safety. She's gotten attached to Sherlock, and she's become a positive influence on him. I'm thinking of both of them. Father, please."

"Wait, what?!" I nearly fell off my railing. At the last second I managed to grab it with my good hand. Mycroft's eyes narrowed.

"She's right here actually. Would you like to talk to her?"

I lowered myself carefully down with my good arm. Mycroft held the out to me slowly, his face was a mix of amusement and anger. I took the phone from him.

"Grounded." He muttered as my hand closed around the small mobile device. I nodded numbly.

"Hello?" I said softly.

"Hello." The voice was so much like Sherlock's that I thought I was talking to my older brother.

"Not funny, Mycroft." I thrust Mycroft's phone back at him, but he was shaking his head, I put the phone back to my ear.

"How are you little jaybird?"

I choked on a sob. Sherlock knew...noticed a lot, but I doubt even he knew my dad's nickname for me. "Daddy?"

"Hey kiddo."

All at once I felt the rush of love fill my chest. I could finally tell my dad how I felt about him. Five years of waiting and I was about to tell my father how much I missed him. I took a deep breath in. "You asshole!"

Mycroft shot me a look of surprise, but I shrugged at him. My father had pretty much abandoned me. I had rights. From the other end of the line Dad chuckled.

"I figured that's what I'd get. You sound just like me." I could tell from his voice he was smiling.

"You sound just like Sherlock." I mumbled.

"Sherlock sounds like me, love. I came first. How is my youngest boy? Is he still mute?"

I snorted. "I wish."

"Mycroft said you've grown close to your brother."

"Mycroft hasn't been in the apartment for the last five minutes." I said stubbornly.

"It has to take longer than five minutes to become cross with someone." He said gently.

"You've never met Sherlock, Dad." I froze, Dad really hadn't met Sherlock before. "Sorry."

"Nah, that's okay honey. How is he? How are you?"

"He's...annoying. He goes from being over protective, to not being able to get me out the door fast enough. I don't even think he cares that I leave in a week and a half." I couldn't keep the hurt out of my voice.

"Mycroft explained to me what's been happening. Maybe Sherlock is just trying to make it easier to say goodbye."

"Yeah but that's why Mycroft called you, so Mom couldn't take me away."

"Jayden...I think you need to forgive your brother and spend as much time with him as you can. You may not have that much time left."

"Mycroft said..."

"Mycroft said I may be able to help. I'll do whatever I can, Jade, but be prepared to go home with your mother."

I sank to the ground. "Dad...can I stay with you then?"

"No, my love. Moriarty wants to push us together, we must stay apart."

"Yes, sir." My voice caught in my throat.

"I love you Jade. I am so sorry you had to go through this just to stay safe. Be good to your brothers."

He hung up before I got to see I loved him to. I handed Mycroft back his phone, I didn't try to hide the tears in my eyes. Mycroft looked slightly confused at what to do next, but slowly, hesitantly he pulled me into a hug.

Sherlock's scent was hard for me to describe, all I knew was it brought me comfort. Mycroft smelled like old books, the library, scotch, and cigars. I hadn't expected Mycroft to be sympathetic, but as he rested his chin on my head I lost control in my eldest brother's arms. I sobbed worthlessly into his expensive suit.

"We knew it was a long shot, Jade." He mumbled.

"Mycroft, without you, without Sherlock, without Doc, I just…I can't…"

My brother's arms tightened around me. I wondered if it were raining again because my head was becoming wet. I looked up at my eldest brother crying. His brown eyes were rimmed red, his mouth was turned down in a deep frown of pain. I had to stand on my tiptoes to kiss his cheek. He let out a choked sob. "Not helping."

"Sorry." I buried my face farther in his suit. "Mycroft, I am so sorry. I shouldn't have ever come here."

"It's not your fault Jade. Don't blame yourself, we all just sort of got attached to each other."

"I know. I'm adorable, everyone loves me." I tried to joke.

He kissed my forehead. "You need to go back in."

"Not you?" I asked.

"Not with these stupid things." He motioned to his tears. I wiped them away with the pad of my thumb. I didn't want to go back in to Sherlock's apartment. In all honesty if I was truly going back to America I didn't want to live anymore. Maybe it was the PTSD talking, but my brothers were too important for me to lose. I hugged Mycroft one last time, wondering how many I had left. I felt my brother's tears on my face and knew my days were numbered.

I took Mycroft's hand and squeezed it softly. He walked me to the door. "We've still got two weeks. Fourteen days."

I tried to smile, for Mycroft's sake. I didn't want him to know that meant I only had fifteen days left to live. "Yeah."

Mycroft turned to go. He stopped suddenly. "That's weird."

"What?"

"I could have sworn there was an angel statue across the street a few seconds ago."

**Not now, nor will I ever do a crossover. Just a nice tip of the hat to Whovians ;) sorry if I made anyone concerned**


	25. A little fall of rain

Sherlock took my booze away.

A week and a half after I had spoken to my dad, I finally gave up. Sherlock found me curled up on the bathroom floor cuddling a bottle of scotch like it was a teddy. He tried to pull it away, but I snarled at him. He pried it away from hands and threw it out the window. I gave him a dirty look.

"Why you do?" I asked in a completely drunk state.

"Jade, what the hell is wrong with you?" He circled his arms under me and hoisted me into the air. The world around me spun crazily. I hardly held down my vomit.

"Stop spinning me." I slurred my words together. "Oh sweet fandoms I'm gonna hurl."

He scowled. "Jayden."

"I'm drunk stooopid." I giggled into his arm, for whatever reason being drunk struck me as hilarious. I poked him in the chest. "You smell nice."

"You're a delusional idiot. Your mind is your best weapon, and you probably just destroyed half of it." He threw me on the couch. "You're becoming dull." He pulled a blanket off the back of the couch and wrapped it around me. I tried to push him away.

"That's the point." I said in an unusual high voice. "I gotta become dull so Sherlock won't be sad when I die. If I'm not interesting he won't care about me. But shhhhh…" I put my fingers on his lips. "Don't tell him cause he'll try to stop me."

"Why are you dying?" He asked with that stern brotherly tone. His hand pressed against my forehead, I crossed my eyes under its gentle pressure. I tried to bite his hand, but the coward pulled back quickly. "Jayden!"

"Because I was going to anyway, but living here stopped me. Now I'm not living here anymore, so poof! No more Jade Holmes!"

Sherlock pulled my head off the couch and let me rest on his chest. I curled into a small ball to stop my head from spinning. He rested his chin on my head. It took me four hours to regain my senses, Sherlock let me stay against his chest for a while longer. It reminded me of our time together in the prison cell, my mind snapped back to reality. I groaned loudly.

"You weren't supposed to hear that." I muttered into his chest.

"Yes well, you tend to lose control when you drunk." He said in a bored tone.

"Or high." I said coldly. Doc had walked into Sherlock's room just the other day, only to find him high as a kite. It had been an admitly funny site, but had also given me the green light to find relief in drinking. After all, I wanted to be just like my brother.

Sherlock scowled. I clung to his chest in desperate need of comfort, he sighed and shifted his arms. I was crying profoundly, I couldn't have stopped if I wanted to. "Sherlock, I don't want to leave. There's got to be something Mycroft can do." I hadn't seen my brother all week. I hoped it was because he was forming a plan.

"He's trying, Jade." Sherlock said softly. "There's only so much he can do."

I snuggled my head into his chest. I took a deep breath in, his scent filled my nose. I loved that smell. If I didn't have it around every day, I did not see the point of having a nose. I tried to distinguish the smell. It was clean, it was sad, it was…

"Rain." I gasped. "It's rain."

Sherlock gave me a stupid look. He had the beginning stages of a beard, hygiene hadn't been on the top of our to do lists. Sherlock had been unusually quiet the past week, we had both stopped eating, and Sherlock only showered because Doc threatened to hose him down. Sherlock wrinkled his nose. "It's not raining."

I didn't try to explain it to Sherlock. I just curled into a tighter ball against his chest. He flicked my ear in that annoying cute way that older brothers did. I didn't want to let him go.

"Jade, you won't…if you go back…" Sherlock was, for probably the first time in his life, struggling for words.

"Yeah Sherlock. Yeah, I probably will." I said softly.

"Jade…use your head."

"Oh, my dear brother. The head is so boring, the heart is what makes life interesting."

"The heart is a small organ that pumps blood, it does not feel."

In spite of myself, I smiled. What a dork.

Doc's keys were turning in the door. I slowly rose from Sherlock's chest regrettably, Sherlock was warm and the rest of the room was cold. I slumped in Doc's favorite arm chair, so Sherlock didn't feel embarrassed about his stupid emotions. I pulled a blanket around my shoulders.

Doc walked in with grocery bags in each hand. He smiled when he saw me stretched out his arm chair, I gave him a friendly wave. I didn't want to lose my developing warmth, but Doc looked like he made need help. I began to…

"Jade has something she doesn't want to tell you John." Sherlock said steadily. I froze, he wouldn't, he couldn't, he did. "She's going to commit suicide the minute she hits America. Well, not the minute, but you get it." His gaze had stayed trained on the ceiling with a bored expression. I was going to destroy him.

Doc's face completely crumpled. He had so many facial expressions, nine out of ten time they made me want to giggle. But the pain in his face and eyes made me want to cry. He dropped the bags and hugged me fiercely.

"Don't you dare. Jade, don't…just don't you dare." I was surprised that he wasn't shouting abuse at me. My mom had, when I told her about my suicidal tendencies. She was convinced it was all for attention. Doc picked me up out of the chair and swung me around.

"Doc…" I didn't cry, not because I didn't want to. My body was just too tired to cry anymore. How could I explain to him without him, Sherlock, and Mycroft life just wasn't worth it.

Doc grabbed the side of my face and made me look at him. Doc was forty-one, old enough to be my dad. I hadn't wanted a father figure, but Doc snuck his way into the father sized hole in my heart anyway. "We'll figure it out. Don't do anything crazy."

I threw my arms around his neck. His arms tightened around my back, laid my head on his shoulder. It had been a while since I had a Daddy hug. He was saying something.

"What?"

"Was Sherlock supposed to tell me that?" He whispered.

I shook my head.

"Watch this." He pulled away and winked. "It'll make you laugh." He promised.

Doc got a running start and threw himself on top of Sherlock, who let a girlish shriek of protest. I followed Doc and landed on Sherlock's face. He was hissing at both of us, Doc was laughing happily, but concern was still in his eyes.

I took his hand and squeezed it.

Maybe we could figure something out.

"Jade, please. Please, happy now? I'm begging you don't do it. Don't jump…"

"Sorry Sherlock…" I muttered softly.

I took a deep. Sherlock would never admit it but there were unshed tears in his eyes. I couldn't look into his eyes anymore, it had to be done. I turned my face from my brother. "Jade…"

"Die asshole!" I hit the A button, and Mario flew to meet Lugi's head. Sherlock swore loudly. I had introduced him to the versus part of the game. He hadn't won once. Doc chuckled.

"My turn." Doc slid from around the kitchen counter and replaced Sherlock in his seat. I hated to admit it, but Doc was getting pretty good. He pointed to the half glass of water on the table. I drank it quickly.

Doc, Sherlock, and I made a deal, in order to play the game we had to start taking care of ourselves. Sherlock had to shower, and shave, I had to brush my hair and shower. And eat and drink and, etc., etc., ect.. For the last two days it had worked, it had keep us distracted from the fact that I left the next day. I lost to Doc by two points.

Sherlock snatched my game controller from me. Doc pointed at the half eaten apple on the table, Sherlock grumbled but ate all of it. I wondered what Doc would use when I was gone.

"Sherlock, where's Mycroft?" I asked evenly. I hadn't my eldest brother in the past two weeks, and I was hoping to say goodbye before I left. I looked out the window, as if he would be pulling up now.

"Australia." He bounced up on the couch as Mario jump. "Hop you, little bastard, hop, hop, hop."

"Is he gonna be back in time…?"

"He said he would." Sherlock was completely distracted in his mission to destroy Doc. Doc beat him easily. Sherlock let out a sigh of frustration and fell back on the couch. Doc beamed.

I sat down to play an eager Doc, but my phone went off. I looked down hoping to see my brother's name on the screen. It read "She-Devil".

Never let Sherlock get a hold of your phone.

"Hi Mom." I said sorely into it.

Sherlock made a loud gagging noise from the couch. I threw my controller at him, it bounced off his head. He snarled.

"Hello, my darling. All packed for tomorrow?"

I was, but only because Doc had for me. I had pouted in the corner. "Of course."

"I'll be there around nine in the morning."

"I know, Sherlock told me."

"How did Sherlock…"

"Never mind."

"We'll be leaving right away tomorrow morning, love, so don't make me wait."

"No ma'am."

"Love you."

"Yeah."

"Bye."

"Yeah."

The minute the phone clicked I chucked it away from me. It hit the side of the wall with a sickening thud, Sherlock and Doc jumped. Doc put down the game controller.

"I think it's time for bed…"

I scowled at Doc, but I agreed with him. I was tired, tomorrow was going to be the worse day of my life. I made Sherlock stay with me. My PTSD wouldn't let me, let him out of the room. I lay down so my head was resting on Sherlock's knee.

"Sherlock…"

"Shush."

"Brother, please…" I grabbed Sherlock's hand.

"Jade, I know you don't like it, but do you want me to talk to you."

"No."

"Jade, you won't sleep if I don't."

"Sleeping just means tomorrow will come sooner." I cuddled my head against his leg. He gently pulled me into his arms. I rested my head on his chest.

"Jade, let me."

"Nope."

"Jade, let me talk to you." His voice was low and inviting. It was an incredibly rich voice. "I'm just going to talk to you about sleep."

I yawned. "Sherlock…"

"It's just talking, Jayden. Just talking." His arms were so warm, his chest was so comfortable. "Just talking to you about sleep."

My head rolled on his chest. My eyes felt incredibly heavy.

"Just talking to you about…"

Sleep.


	26. Mycroft, the British, tea drinking god

I followed Sherlock around like a lost puppy.

Normally I would have been absolutely pissed about him voodooing me, but my time with my brother was limited. Sherlock didn't complain as I followed him around the apartment, my stuff lay in an unorganized pile of to the side. I didn't care about it, but Doc was fussing over it. He was clearly trying to distract himself.

I bumped into Sherlock's back as he stopped suddenly. He made a smart remark that I didn't catch. I rolled my eyes, assuming it was rude. Sherlock made sure Doc wasn't looking before he gently gave my healthy hand a quick squeeze. I made a small whimpering sound. I leaned into his shoulder.

"Jade, you forgot you're game." Doc said with an infinite amount of sadness in his voice.

I looked at the old dinosaur that was literally my only happy childhood memory. I had dragged it every where, I refused to let anyone else touch it without my presence. I had kept it clean, taken care of it, played with it at least once a week. I smiled at the old memories of playing for hours on it, but they were being replace in my mind.

Now I saw Sherlock's enraged face as Doc bopped him on the head, as he fell into lava, as he was eaten by a plant. I saw Doc glowing from behind the controller as he won over and over again. I saw Sherlock shoving me mercilessly to prevent me from winning.

"Keep it." I muttered into Sherlock's shoulder. "Keep it and learn to not suck. In case you guys visit me sometime, maybe Sherlock will stop sucking if I let him practice."

Sherlock must have stopped caring that Doc was watching because he pulled me into a hug. "I. Do. Not. Suck."

"You suck the big one, bro." I teased.

"You don't have to leave it here. I know how much it means to you." He whispered.

"Yeah, but you don't know how much you and Doc mean to me, so I figured this would help you deduce my affections." I didn't want to cry, but one look at Sherlock's shocked face sent me over the edge. I smiled through my own tears. "I love you, Lucky. You, Doc, and Mycroft."

Doc cleared his throat, but his voice still squeaked as he asked where Mycroft was.

Sherlock shrugged. "He said he'd be here."

I didn't want to ever leave my brother's arms, but the time one the clock read 9:00 am and the door bell was ringing. I wrapped my arms around Sherlock's waist and buried my face his chest. His stitches were still in so I had to be careful. Doc took the hint and pulled my bags down the stairs.

"I'll stall for you." He said softly.

"Thanks." Sherlock said through clenched teeth.

I indulged myself in Sherlock's warmth. He was so thin from not eating I was worried he may snap in half. Sherlock allowed me to lean on him, but at the same time he leaned on me.

"I love you too Jayden." He said in my hair. "I love you too."

He had never said it before.

I gave a small hiccup and pulled away from him. I couldn't leave my mother waiting for long, eventually she'd barge in on my brother and me. I took Sherlock's hand. "Good-bye, Sherlock."

"Jade…"

I gave his hand a final squeeze and darted down the stairs. As much as I wanted to be with him, getting closer to Sherlock would only make things difficult. He followed me down the stairs shortly after.

Doc was standing in front of my mom trying to get her to chat, which was clearly pissing her off. I smiled as Doc spat out nonsense.

"Who exactly are you?" She demanded.

"Friend of Sherlock's, awful weather. Dreadful. Have you seen the new Hobbit movie?"

"Doc." I laughed behind him. He turned to me with a small smile. I ran into his arms quickly before my mother could cart me away to Hell. I lay my head against his jumper. "Bye, Doc."

He kissed the top of my head.

"Is this a sexual thing?" My mother scoffed. "Is this the type of people you have been living with, Jade Holmes? Darling, I can understand your fetish with older men, but he's what? Forty-five? Fifty?"

"Forty-one thanks." He said into my head. I gave him a small squeeze.

"You've lived with her for how long?" He whispered.

"My whole life."

You poor thing."

Doc let go of me slowly. I could see regret filling his eyes. As an old army habbit he even blinked out S.O.S.. I gave him one last hug.

I was aware of everything around me. The sun's warmth, the birds aining, my mother's hateful gaze towards Sherlock. Everything was present except…

"Can we wait for Mycroft, Mom? He told Sherlock he'd be here."

"Yes, well we know how reliable he is. No we can't sweetie. The plane will take off without us, come along."

I stayed as close to Doc and Sherlock as I could. "Five more minutes, Mom. Please?"

"No, now Jayden."

Sherlock's hand rested protectively on my shoulder. "It's only five minutes. You're plane is for noon, stop being a twat and let her stay. We're here brothers, not her captors." He said in a bored monotone.

"How did you know…?"

"I didn't know, I noticed." He said shortly.

"You're her half brothers, Sherlock Holmes. Hardly related if you ask me. Now come Jayden." She called me like a dog.

"Just five minutes." I begged. "Mom, I just want to say good…"

"Now." He voice was cold. I stepped away from the warmth of my brother and his best friend by force of habit. No one disobeyed my mom when she had that tone of voice. I stuffed my hands in my pockets.

"Can I at least hug Sherlock one more time?"

She sighed heavily. "Quickly."

I hugged Sherlock swiftly. "Tell Mycroft I said good-bye."

"I will."

"Tell him I love him."

"I will."

"Sherlock please stay safe." I looked into his ice blue eyes. He looked down at me, and I kissed his cheek. I walked away from him without a second glance. Mom opened the door of the cab. I stared at the open space where my butt was supposed to go. I took a small step towards when the greatest sound I'd ever heard hit my ear drums.

Mycroft's car.

Sure enough my eldest brother pulled up into the road, blocking the cab. He stepped out without shutting down the engine. I ran to him.

"Mycroft!" I threw my arms around his neck. He lifted me in the air happily.

"Who has the best big brother in the world?" He asked softly.

"Not me. You're late." I muttered into his shoulder.

"You'll forgive me in a mo'." He smiled down at me with an evil Holmes's glint in his eyes. My eldest brother had a plan. Mycroft was my hero. "Go by Sherlock. Whatever happens stay with him until I say so."

I looked questionally at my mom. "But…"

"If you get into that cab there's nothing I can do. Go by Sherlock, Jade."

I ran back to Sherlock as quickly as I could. I stopped dead in front of him, panting hard. He raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"Mycroft…plan…said…stay…you." I wheezed. Sherlock nodded and stepped between me and my mother.

"What is the meaning of this?" She snapped.

"Nothing." Mycroft said easily. "I just didn't want you to kidnap my little sister."

"Kidnap? Me? Do not make me laugh Mycroft Holmes."

The tension was so thick a chainsaw wouldn't have been able to cut through it. Mycroft shuffled through his suits pockets and pulled out an official looking document. "Kidnap. You. And the minute you see this paper I promise you will never laugh again." He passed it over to her. "My father's will. Claiming me as Jade's legal guardian, should he meet an untimely demise. His signature, the date, my name. Checkmate."

My, Sherlock's, Doc's, and Mom's mouths all dropped. Mycroft had been in Australia. Mycroft made an official document and made our dad sign it. Mycroft was a British, tea drinking, possibly homosexual god. I grabbed Sherlock's hand.

"This is a fraud." My mother said stoutly. "A court would see through it in seconds."

"Oh really? Tell me, Lara, in the will that is currently in your position are Sherlock and I listed as cousins or brothers? Nephews, or sons? Who looks like their holding a fraud will now?"

"That's brilliant!" Doc said with awe. Mom glared at him hatefully. Even Sherlock looked mildly impressed.

"I will take you to court, Mycroft Holmes."

Mycroft shrugged, unaffected. "Be my guest, but Jade is not leaving England until this is settled."

"That is outrageous! She is my daughter!"

"And I am her legal guardian. Since both our claims are equally good let's allow Jade to decide who she wants to stay with until court dates are set. Jade."

"You." I said without looking at my mom. Mycroft nodded.

"There. See you in court." Mycroft nodded back towards Mom's cabbie. I peeked from behind Sherlock's arm.

Mom's face was worse than any face Ri or Moriarty had given, and her voice was twice as deadly. "Get in the car, Jayden. This isn't a game."

"I tried to tell you, Mom." I said softly behind Sherlock. "I want to stay with Sherlock and Mycroft. They're my brothers and…"

"They. Are. Your. Half. Brothers." She hissed.

"Mom, genetics don't matter. Sherlock and Mycroft are my brothers, and I'm staying with them. Sherlock and I have been through a lot together."

"You have three seconds." Her voice was cold.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Get a warrant, come back, and take her from us." He snapped.

Sherlock ushered me towards his apartment, he didn't give my mom a chance to demand anything. He simply slammed the door in her face. He leaned heavily against the wall. He opened his arms up, and I gently stepped into them. I nestled my head against his chest.

"I get to stay."

"I know. Mycroft pulled off a mildly impressive feat."

I snuggled into his arms. "My mom was so pissed." I giggled.

"It was too funny." He chuckled.

Mycroft and Doc came in a few minutes later. Mycroft had a bloody lip, but was grinning ear to ear. Doc had a mother shaped hand print on his face. I bit my lip in anger.

"It's alright." Mycroft laughed. "Good lord I made her angry. Jade, you can stay with Sherlock for a while longer, but I think we should move you into my flat before the court case."

I nodded. "Mycroft is that will legal?"

"Technically none of our father's wills are legal, Jade. A will only applies to a dead man."

"How long before…"

"Days, months, whenever your mother can get a court date."

I gave a small snort. "Are you prepared for war, dear brother?"

"I've been at war with forces stronger than your mother." He chuckled.

"I highly doubt that." I said truthfully.


	27. Arts and Mycrofts

Mycroft didn't let Sherlock come to my doctor's appointment.

I was finally losing the stiches and my cast. The wounds had plagued me for a few months, they were a reminder of a hellish place, and I was ready to be rid of them. But I had wanted my older brother to be there as well.

I sat in the back of the car pouting like a four year old. Mycroft wanted us to learn to be separate from each other for longer than an hour. He though we had been spoiled the last few weeks because we had never had any time apart. My PTSD and I disagreed noisily. I kept kicking the back of his car seat until I could see his red face in the mirror. I was not amused.

"You could have let him come." I said shortly.

"The two of you need to learn it's okay to leave each other alone." Mycroft said between kicks.

"Last time I did that I walked in on him tied to a chair and naked, but color me reassured." I slammed my foot into the back of his seat harder. He grunted loudly and twisted in his seat. His eyes were narrow.

"Wait, what?" Doc asked confused.

"Nothing." Both Mycroft and I said together.

"Come on Mikey!" I had been trying different names for Mycroft, but none of them seemed to fit properly.

"No."

"Arts and Mycrofts?"

"Absolutely not."

"Mindcroft."

Are you stupid?"

"My."

"Your what?"

"Suzie."

"Now you're just being difficult." He timed my kicks and managed lean forward whenever he sensed one coming. I sighed heavily. Mycroft needed a nickname. Sherlock had Lucky, and Doc was just Doc…come to think of it I couldn't even remember his real name.

"John."

Oh yep, there it was.

"You can give Jayden back her phone. Their twenty minutes of no contact is up. I'm sure my brother will be eager to hear from her."

With seventy-four text messages and seven miss calls I didn't doubt Sherlock's eagerness.

**This is stupid. –SH**

**Really, properly stupid. –SH**

**Tell Mycroft to at least let you text k back so I know you haven't died –SH**

**Bored. –SH**

**Dead yet? –SH**

**How's the PTSD? –SH**

**I'm going in your room. –SH**

**Who's Dan and why do you think he's delicious? –SH**

**Your diary is full of grammar mistakes, don't worry I'm fixing them. –SH**

**How is a boy delicious? Did you bite him? –SH**

**Is that a sexual thing? –SH**

**It is a sexual thing isn't it. –SH**

**You're not allowed to be sexual. –SH**

**You can be a nun. –SH**

**A sexless, virgin, nun. –SH**

…**with a cat. –SH**

**I'm allergic to cats. –Jade**

**Well dogs hump everything, and that's sexual so out of the question. –SH**

**Why aren't you angry that I'm in your room? –SH**

**I was in yours the other day. Why do you call Irene "the woman"? –Jade**

**This is only fun when I have the upper hand. –SH**

**Is it because she was "the woman" who took your virginity? –Jade**

**Never mind. I asked Doc and Mycroft the same question and they are still laughing at it. –Jade**

**Immature brat. –SH**

**Still laughing…are you really that virginized? –Jade**

**You are a virgin too, moron. –SH**

**Not that much of a virgin. –Jade**

**? –SH**

**Don't forget I know what Dan tastes like ;) –Jade**

**If you'll excuse me I have to sink my head in bleach right now talk laters. –SH**

**Love you –Jade**

**Meh.-SH**

I laughed at my older brother's embarrassment. My PTSD began to soothe itself the more I talked to Sherlock. I called him quickly as we reached the doctor's office just to hear his deep voice on the other end. He very loudly yelled "SEXLESS NUN!", which caused some people in the waiting room to pause, but Doc and I cracked up. Mycroft rolled his eyes.

The visit would have been quick, but every time the doctor came towards me with the knife to cut away the cast I repeatedly saw Moriarty. At first I managed to remain content just squeezing the life out of Doc's hand, but as it breached the layers of cast I screamed for Sherlock. Mycroft held my phone against my ear so Sherlock could talk me through getting my cast off. I whimpered as he softly told me I was being stupid.

"Sorry, Sherlock. I keep seeing…"

"Moriarty slash your arm. I know Jade, but you're going to be fine."

"Sherlock I keep seeing him cut you." I said urgently. I need to see my older brother, and know him to be safe. The doctor cut away my cast quietly. Sherlock continued to talk on the other end of the phone. He knew I needed to hear him, I didn't need him to say anything soothing. I just had to hear him speak. He went on about how stupid people were. I was happy just to hear him speak.

Getting the stiches removed was easier than getting the cast off and five minutes later all I had was a long ugly scar. Mycroft wouldn't look straight at it, but Doc took my hand in his and traced. "Jesus, Jade what did he do to you?"

"Can we go home now?" I asked rudely. I needed to see Sherlock.

"Of course." Mycroft muttered.

I walked a couple paces a head of Mycroft and Doc, this was exactly why I had wanted Sherlock to come. He would have understood why I was so skittish around the knife. I called him again. He answered after the third ring.

"Calm down." He said sternly.

"Don't tell me that, Sherlock. You sound like them." I snapped.

"Jade, you have to relax. This is what Moriarty wants." He sounded angry.

"I can't help it Sherlock. I just…" I stopped. There was an elder lady sitting in the waiting room…and she had a goatee, black hair was sticking out of her gray wig, and her old arms looked young and fresh. "Shit."

"What? Jade? Jade!"

"Nothing. I have to go."

"Who have you seen?"

"Guess."

"I never…"

I hung up the phone. My skin was crawling and my legs were knocking together. I turned to look for Mycroft, but the old locked her vice grip on my wrist. I looked down into evil brown eyes. Moriarty.

"Where's Mycroft? What have you done?" I hissed. I knew better than to shout until I knew my brother was safe. Moriarty chuckled in a false high voice. I needed to throw up. "Where is Mycroft?"

"Your eldest brother is fine, my deary, as long as you do as exactly as I say." He tugged my arm towards the door.

"Seriously? Resulting to threaten Mycroft? Dull." I tried to sound as cocky as Sherlock.

"And yet it's enough to work on you." He motioned to my feet, which were of course, moving. I could have easily twisted out of his grip and made a break for it. I had been in material arts for twelve years, escaping was no issue. But I had no idea where Doc and Mycroft were. Sherlock would have known, Sherlock would have been fine. I wanted my brother.

Moriarty lead me into a small alley behind the hospital. He held out his commandingly. "Phone."

I started to shake my head no, but his eyes narrowed. I passed him the small device. I knew who he was dialing the moment the phone was in his hand.

"Hello deary." Moriarty said into the phone as though he were Mrs. Doubtfire. In my mind I apologized over and over to my brother. Sherlock voice was garbled on the other end.

"Well I told you the rules of the game, Sherlock. It's not my fault if you broke the rules. Now you get a penalty, and it's poor Jade that has to suffer for it. Remember dear, you belong to me now."

I waited for Sherlock to reply, but before he could Moriarty slammed my own phone into my forehead. I yelped and fell backwards. Moriarty hit me repeatedly over the head with my phone, he moved to my ribs, my stomach, finally I felt as though I could no longer breathe. He threw my phone at my head and curtsied. He left me bleeding and alone in the alleyway. I curled into a tight ball around my phone. Sherlock was shouting my name through the phone.

"Jade! Jade!"

"Sher…lucky…"

"Hang on Jade. I'm calling Mycroft, just hang on!"

"No! Don't hang up!" I commanded.

"It'll only be two seconds." Sherlock clicked off the phone. I lay on the ground and whimpered for Sherlock. I was happy it hadn't been my brother who had been beaten, but it still didn't take away the physical pain. Sherlock called back in a matter of seconds. I could barely bring myself to answer it.

"Sherlock." I groaned.

"Jade, Mycroft's coming." He said softly.

"I want you to come." I cried.

"I am coming, Jade."

Mycroft found me in what seemed like hours later. He picked me up in strong arms, I went to rest my cheek against his chest. I nestled in his chest. "Mycroft, I want Sherlock." I cried.

My eldest brother didn't take offense to my favoring of Sherlock. He held me close as Doc ran his fingers over my forming bruises. I sniveled. Doc took me out of Mycroft's arm tenderly. "The hosipital could be infiltrated." Doc said angrily. "I can take care of these. They're just bruises."

"Sherlock said to wait here for him." Mycroft said with rage creeping into his voice. "We will take Jade home when he gets here."

"She needs to get home now." Doc was rising to his feet, but Mycroft stilled him.

"I am the legal guardian here. As much as I hate to admit it, she needs Sherlock." Mycroft licked his lips. "He's what's best for her now."

It took Sherlock five minutes to arrive in our small alley, he slid on his knees as he got close enough. He took my slender form out of Doc's arms. "Damn it Mycroft, I told you. I told you she needed to stay with me."

His fingers gently touched the side of my face and turned it. He checked my arm and hand closely. He was checking my new wounds, I gripped his hand tightly. Sherlock was angry with himself.

"Don't blame him, Sherlock. And don't blame yourself either." I told him firmly.

"Jade this isn't a game, it's a pyscho-path who wants to hurt you." He growled. "I told your eldest brother what kind of monster we were dealing with but he refused to listen. It was his stupidity that…"

I rolled out of Sherlock's arms and landed against Mycroft. It was in no way Mycroft's fault and Sherlock knew it. I nuzzled Mycroft's side softly, he picked me up. My legal guardian started towards the car that would take us back to 221 B Baker Street. Sherlock looked stunned.

" Com'mon Lucky." I said painfully into Mycroft's shoulder. I wasn't mad at Sherlock, I just wanted him to see that Mycroft was an okay guardian too. Sherlock trailed after us with his hands deep in his pockets. His face was set with stony anger.

Sherlock ran a head as we got closer to Mycroft's car and threw himself in first. Mycroft gently laid me on Sherlock's knee so I could sleep in the way home. Doc was fishing through his pockets and pulled out some pain killers. He passed the bottle over to Sherlock. Sherlock poured to pills into his open palm.

"Here."

"Don't be mad at Mycroft."

"I'm not, take these."

"He was just being a good guardian."

"Jade, I know. He was my guardian too, take these."

"Why don't you two get a long?"

Both Mycroft and Sherlock flinched. "Jade take these, come on now." Sherlock said encouragingly. "I'll tell you when you feel better."

"You're lying." I said painfully. My ribs screamed in agony. Sherlock said nothing, he pushed his palm against my lips until I swallowed the pills. He sighed with relief as my body began to relax against him. "Tell me."

"Because I wanted a mother and father, not a guardian." Sherlock said softly as he ran a hand through my hair. "I wanted to be able to say Mum and Dad, not Mycroft."

"Everybody can say Mom and Dad, not everyone can say Guardian." I muttered. I was tired, my eyes were falling. "Maybe that's his nickname. Guardian. Yeah…I like that better than Suzie."

I fell asleep in the back seat with Sherlock gently stroking my hair.


	28. Inconceivable!

"Sherlock, if I'm staying in England why does Moriarty need to…?"

"Because we don't know if you're really staying or not."

"Mycroft is basically the British government. I think it's safe to say I'm staying." I threw myself on the couch next to my brother. He had his nose buried in a small case file, since the day of the hospital visit he hadn't let me leave the apartment. I felt completely trapped, I wanted to climb something, or at least go outside. Sherlock refused.

"Can we go outside?" I poked him in the arm.

"No." He said stiffly.

"Could I go outside?" Sherlock refused to look at me. "Please, Sherlock."

"No." He flipped the pages in his case.

"What if I took Doc with me?" I pleaded. If I kept Doc in my line of sight Moriarty would probably leave me alone. Probably.

"Mm, no."

The sun was creeping through the window. It was beautiful day outside, and I was being held against my will in my brother's house. Doc was coming in the living room with a cup of coffee in his hand. To him it was early in the morning, to Sherlock and me the day started at seven a.m. His hair stuck out at odd angles, and jamas were rumpled. I snickered.

"Will you two shut up? I can hear you both in my room. Sherlock just let her go outside." Doc said sleepily. Sherlock threw his file on the table.

"Dull. It was the second grade teacher. No one noticed the butter knife." He put his feet in my lap, but I pushed them away. I was angry at him for being my jailor instead of my brother. I looked out the window longing, until I saw my mom standing on the sidewalk. I leapt backwards into Sherlock, he snorted. "Told you we couldn't go outside, did you think I was just being arrogant."

Yes. The answer was yes.

"You didn't tell me why!" I snapped.

"She's been out there for a few hours, Jade." Sherlock shrugged nonchalantly. "If I let your crawl out of the fire escape I'd look like an awful brother."

Doc poured a bowl of cereal. He poured me one too and pointed at it sternly, he mouthed the word eat. I didn't want to eat, food was disgusting, dull, yucky. Sherlock shoved me off the couch with his mutant monkey feet. I grumbled as I walk towards the kitchen

I grabbed the bowl from Doc and sat down on the table, he began to protest. I gave him an "I dare you" look. He sat down next to me.

I began spooning cereal into my mouth, Doc and Sherlock were both completely silent. "You guys should tell me a story, or something." I said unsure of what to do next. Doc loved telling story, it was something he was good at. Sherlock rolled his eyes and said nothing.

"How about the first case your brother and I went on together?" Doc asked. I nodded eagerly. Doc made me sit and be still before he'd start anything. He told me I had to finish my bowl of cereal well he talked. I snorted.

"I'm not five, Doc." I swallowed my corn flakes down, milk and all. Doc began his story with the nightmares he had been having about the war. He went through meeting Sherlock, watching Sherlock, getting told off by Sherlock, meeting Mycroft, and finally Sherlock disappearing off the cabbie. He told me the "game" they had been playing and how he had shot the cabbie just in time. My mouth dropped on the floor.

"Sherlock! You idiot! You would have died!" I shouted. My brother looked surprised. I was absolutely seething. "Haven't you ever seen the Princess Bride, numb nuts?!" I demanded.

"No." Sherlock said with a bored tone. "I don't enjoy watching dull…"

"This one could have saved your life, idiot." I could see my accusations were having no effect on him, so I darted into the kitchen. Doc had empty capsules, which were just what I needed. I filled them properly without letting Sherlock see. I put them each capsule in the bottles and sat down at the table. "Come here."

Sherlock sat across from me with a suspicious look. I set the two bottles in front of me so they were side by side. I looked into my brothers eyes. "One is filled with salt. The other is filled with sugar. Eat the salt tablet and die. Eat the sugar and live." I thrust forward a bottle towards Sherlock. "Did I just give you salt or sugar?"

Sherlock cocked an eyebrow clearly interested. "There's no way of knowing if this is indeed how he played."

"Oh, I think it's safe to assume." I said truthfully.

Sherlock reached for the bottle by himself. I gave him a cocky smirk. If he picked that bottle up he would lose. Sherlock noticed my smile. "Well at least he wasn't that obvious." Sherlock picked up the bottle near me. I shrugged and popped my bottle open. Sherlock did the same.

"One." He said.

"Two."

"Three." Sherlock crunched down on his tablet and made the most disgusted face I had ever seen. "Salty! That's…that's…"

"Inconceivable!" I shouted. No one in the room cracked up, but if they had been cool, it would have been totally hilarious to them. I passed him my untouched tablet. He bit into it.

"Jade, you little shit." Sherlock hissed. "This is…"

"How you play the game, bro." I laughed. "That cabbie was probably immune to the poison or wasn't going to take it at all after you were dead at his feet."

Sherlock sat a little straighter in his chair, I had clearly offended his deduction powers. I shrugged. It wasn't my fault Sherlock didn't watch T.V. Sherlock icy blue eyes were boring into mine.

"Just be thankful it was salt and not poison." I said defensively. Doc gave a small snicker. My brother's eye twitched.

Sherlock dove across the table in an attempt to strangle me. I rolled my chair backwards just in time to have Sherlock's weight come crashing down my legs. I tried to shove him off, but he wrapped his arms around my waist like a vice. I swatted him on the head, there was nothing much else I could do because his chest was still "injured".

The big baby.

"Sherlock! Get off!" I tried to push on his shoulders, but he wouldn't give.

"I'm going to kill you!" He shouted. Sherlock may not have looked like it, but his arm strength was insanely impressive. I grabbed his hair and tugged it slightly. Sherlock had always been sensitive in that area. Eventually his grip loosened. I wiggled out of his arms.

"Okay what the hell?" I snapped at him.

"How did you know that, and I didn't? I am far more clever than you." He sounded like a four year old.

"I just got lucky, I suppose." I muttered. Sherlock nodded in agreement, to him that was the only explanation. Doc rolled his eyes.

"Oh for Heaven's sake."

I leaned back in my chair lazily. Sherlock was lost in thought, his hands were under his chin like he was praying. I took out a small pencil and paper and began drawing him. Doc peeked over my shoulder. "Damn." He muttered. I was always proud of my drawing skills, but every now and then it was nice to hear how awesome I was. I beamed at Doc.

Mycroft burst through the front door so loudly it pulled Sherlock right out of his mind palace. All three of us jumped five feet in the air as Mycroft slammed the door shut. His face was of total rage. "Your mother," he started, "makes Satan look like a gentleman." He looked at Sherlock and me accusingly. "Would you two learn to sleep either with the blinds shut or separate? Your mother is outside accusing Sherlock of sexual harassment towards you, Jade. All because you can't sleep without knowing the other is there!"

I gave a little sigh. My mother was…well nuts. "I didn't think she'd go as far as standing outside the window. Sorry Guardian. Sherlock was finally sleeping, I didn't want to wake him up. It's been weeks since he…"

"Shut up, moron." Sherlock flicked a fallen corn flake at me.

It was true. Sherlock hadn't slept since I told him I was going to commit suicide, but last night he had curled into a ball on the couch. I had made him move over, and he fell asleep with his head in my lap. There was nothing wrong with it, I couldn't sleep anyway without knowing Sherlock was in the room. Usually I would only sleep if I had my head in his lap too. I rubbed the back of my neck, exhausted.

"Sherlock that drive is becoming a necessity. I need it back." Mycroft hissed. "Lara has a court date set, and she's threatening me with…" Mycroft glanced at me. "I need it back, Sherlock."

"Do you know, it's been so long I can't even remember where I put it?" Sherlock knocked himself in the head. "Silly me." I giggled a little.

"Sherlock she's threating me with 12-2-94." Mycroft said tiredly. "And everything before that."

Sherlock didn't look at Mycroft. He stared at Doc's coffee cup and shook his head. "It's safer with me, Mycroft."

"Sherlock, give it to me." Mycroft held out his hand. I looked between my two brothers and quite a glimpse of something new. Mycroft was turning into a father, and Sherlock his five year old son. Sherlock shook his grumpily. "Sherlock Holmes."

"What are you going to do, Mycroft? Count to three?" Sherlock demanded.

"It is essential to keeping Jade here." Mycroft's voice was filled with thin patience.

"She can't prove anything about that, no one can. You made sure of that." Sherlock rose to his feet dramatically. He made his over to the couch, where he plopped down on it belly first.

"Don't." Mycroft said shortly. "Not with that Sherlock. Don't test me with that."

"Why not? I might as well test you with something. You let Mummy test me for eighteen years, I figure you kind of owe me one." Sherlock said with that familiar smart ass tone that every five year old had.

"I did everything I could…"

"You left me when I was twelve to the devices of a mentally unstable woman." Sherlock said hotly. "And now you're facing the monster you've created and you don't like it. Do you, Brother? Jade wants you to be her guardian that's fine, but stop trying to be mine because I'm a grown man and you've already failed at it!"

"There was nothing I could have…" Mycroft didn't sound like he was trying to win the battle with Sherlock. In fact, he sounded like he already lost.

"Yes, because dialing the police was too hard for your tiny intellect." Sherlock said stoutly.

I was examining my eldest brother's face. Mycroft never quit, he never wanted to stop fighting with someone unless he wanted the subject dropped, or unless he was hiding something. Mycroft never flinched when Sherlock accused him of something, which meant he felt justified. However, he never denied that he was in the wrong when Sherlock shouted at him. Mycroft's body language wasn't adding up.

"Why didn't you tell anyone, Mycroft?" I asked shyly.

"Not now, Jayden."

Sherlock answered for him. "Because our mother would have surely died in a prison cell. Her weak old heart would have surely given out. It can't go out if the bitch never had one." Sherlock rolled on his side.

Mycroft's shoulders straightened. He didn't defend himself, but he clearly didn't feel guilty about his choices. I took a random shot in the dark. "Did she threaten Sherlock?" I guessed.

I know, I know. Holmes never guess. Well this one was tired, sore, and tired. I knew Mycroft hadn't given a rat's left nut about his mother, but after talking to him when Sherlock had been put under it was clear he cared about his younger brother. So it was really only half a guess.

Don't. Judge. Me.

Mycroft completely flinched at that, even Sherlock lifted his head from the couch. I blushed a little. "You left first right, Guardian? Well if you told her you were taking Sherlock away she'd probably have been upset by that. Maybe upset enough to threaten to hurt him, and with her being crazy enough you believed her. That's why you came up with a bogus story about her "heart" giving out. To protect Sherlock."

Mycroft's mouth was opened in a small "o" shape. He looked ready to toss his English cookies. I bit my lip until Mycroft spoke.

"How on Earth did you…?"

"Story time?" I asked hopefully.

"Story time." Sherlock agreed for his brother.


	29. A glimpse of the Holmes boys

**AN: These next two chapters were originally one big one, but it ended up being incredibly long so I split them into two. These are not funny ha-ha chapters like normal. These are dark, they're about Sherlock and Mycroft's childhood, which was full of abuse. This chapter is not as dark as the next one, but they explain why Sherlock needs Jade, and why they latch onto each other so tightly. As I was writing this I wanted nothing more than to change everything and give the Holmes boys a happy ending, but I had to let me inner Moffat shine. Thanks to everyone who has stayed with the story this far, sorry I don't often do Author's notes, but I really appreciate all the reviews and such. By the end of the next chapter feel free to hate me, I hated myself while writing about Sherlock's childhood. Also I've decided to hold my chapters hostage until each one has at least 75 views. Mwhahahahahaha! Because I think I update too quickly. Erm…yeah okay I think I'm done wasting time now. Enjoy! **** also I'm kind of going over the next chapter a little bit more so there may be like a day lag between the two. So glimpse now, Sherlock's childhood tomorrow.**

I pulled the blinds shut on my mother's face.

I curled into a small ball in Sherlock's side, he was eyeing Mycroft angrily. Mycroft wanted nothing to do with us. He kept trying to duck out the door, but Doc was blocking it patiently. My eldest brother was shaking his head.

"I don't want to discuss this." Mycroft said angrily. "It happened fourteen years ago." Doc barred the door with his arms. "Jade." He said to me, looking for help.

Sherlock wrapped his arm around my head and squeezed. "Don't you dare help him." I squirmed under my brother's bicep. I pushed under his arm, but he wouldn't give. I was beginning to lose circulation.

"Sherlock, knock it off." Sherlock tightened his grip. "Seriously Sherlock, get off!" He let go.

Mycroft gave up uneasily, he moved from the door to the reclining chair. He laid his arms on the arm rest and twitched his fingers dramatically. He folded his arms across his chest protectively. I frowned.

"You don't have…"

Sherlock wacked me in the back of the head so hard my eyes crossed. I stopped myself from falling off the couch at the last second. "Don't you even think about giving him an out." He hissed.

I rolled my eyes and leaned against Sherlock's arm. "He's scared, Lucky." I whispered for Sherlock's ears alone.

"Let him be scared." Sherlock muttered angrily. "I have a right to know about my own childhood, and why my brother abandoned me to a sick, twisted…."

"I get it, Sherlock. I get it." I shot Mycroft a sympathetic look.

Mycroft was beginning to lose his normally cool appearance. "What do you want me to say, Sherlock? I can't apologize for what happened, I've told you once before caring is NOT an advantage."

"Yes, and then you called John to make sure I hadn't relapsed. Please don't compare my intelligence to yours." I pinched him as hard as I could for being so rude. "Ow! OW!" He yanked his arm away.

Mycroft sighed heavily. "As you know Jayden, and as John is about to find out Sherlock and I were heavily abused by our mother."

"What?" Doc yelped.

"Shush." Sherlock and I said together.

"Up until the age of eighteen I made it my priority to keep Sherlock from our mother's rage."

Sherlock snorted.

"Sherlock, that much is true, and you know it." Mycroft said sternly.

"I was still beaten regularly Mycroft." He said shortly.

"Three times a week was still less than I was." Mycroft's voice was gentler, Sherlock remained silent. "As the elder brother I knew I had to protect my little brother, who at the time was just a baby. So I began taking the blame more frequently. If Sherlock broke something, I confessed to it. The only thing I couldn't protect him from was his damn mouth."

Sherlock shrugged like he didn't care. I kicked his knee cap gently.

"We didn't always used to hate each other, Jade." Mycroft's voice was far away. "When he was younger Sherlock was quite affectionate."

"Shut…"

I smothered Sherlock with a pillow, I was mesmerized by Mycroft's story. He took a deep breathe. "When Sherlock was eleven I had to leave. I had to get out, and I had every intention of taking Sherlock with me. But I was foolish and told Mother my intentions. She informed me if she ever caught wind of the police coming to arrest her, or take Sherlock away she would shoot him. She would put a bullet through her own son's head."

Mycroft pulled his head up so he was facing Sherlock. "Do you even remember that day? You were so young. She made you come down stairs and just to prove she had the nerve to do anything she beat me with in an inch of my life in front of you. Do you remember that Sherlock?" He demanded. "She was going to do it to you, but it was your birthday. December 2nd, and I begged her not to." He wiped his nose noisily. "Literally begged her on my knees to beat me instead."

Sherlock's hands were balling into fists. I couldn't read any emotions in his face, and he was hiding his eyes from me.

"I couldn't tell you why I wasn't able to save you Sherlock for two reasons, one I knew you'd smart off to her and likely get yourself killed, and two…I was too ashamed." He wiped his eyes aggressively. "Happy now? Story's over."

"It doesn't excuse what you did to me when I was twelve." Sherlock's voice was icy. "I can forgive, or at least forget about that, Mycroft. But you messed with my mind. It was all I had at that age and you took it from me."

"It wasn't permanent." Mycroft said defensively.

"It was to me!" Sherlock shouted. "The fact that I was too defenseless to protect myself from my mother was one physical thing. I knew I was smarter than her and that kept me fighting. And you came in and took that away from me."

"I made you stay quiet, Sherlock. I didn't take anything away from…"

"You showed me I was stupider than you, Mycroft!" Sherlock roared. "For God's sake, you showed me I didn't have a prayer against you when it came to minds. You showed me I trusted the wrong person. You took me out and put in your own quiet robot! I thought I was good enough for you, but you showed me I was too stupid to be good enough for the great Mycroft Holmes. That's why you changed me."

"Sherlock it only lasted for a year!"

"You're lying!"

They both sounded like children. In the argument both men had gotten with n an inch of the other's face. I shoved myself between them. "Boys! Corners!"

"Jayden don't you dare talk to me like that." Mycroft snapped.

"Guardian." I pleaded. "Lucky. Come on."

"You can't fix this one, Jade. Not this time." Sherlock hissed violently. Doc grabbed him in a full nelson and pulled him away from Mycroft. I couldn't really hold Mycroft back, I may have been in martial arts, but my style was made for defense. Not offense. I did the next best thing and hugged him.

"He was just trying to protect you, Sherlock." Doc said through his struggles with Sherlock. Sherlock shouted in frustration.

"He should have just taken me with him then!"

"Mother would have killed you!" Mycroft was trying to pry me off of him. I locked my arms around him.

"It would have been better than being mind fu…!" Doc choked Sherlock before he could finish swearing.

"What do you want me to do, Sherlock?" Mycroft was done struggling against me. "I've already apologized, I took you in when you were eighteen, and I've explained myself, what else can I do?"

"Nothing, Mycroft. Nothing. You can quit looking for the adoring eleven year old in my eyes. You can be there for Jade. For God's sake if she needs you, and I can't be there you have to be there for her. There's no happy ending in this story."

I shivered. For some reason I couldn't help but think he meant all the Holmes siblings, not just him and Mycroft.

"Fine." Mycroft straightened himself. "That is reasonable." He walked out the door without another word.

"Mycroft!" I ran after him.

"Jade! Stay in the flat! Jayden!" Sherlock was shouting.

I found Mycroft walking across the street with his hands in the pockets of his expensive suit. I raced across to be with him and nearly crashed into him as I ran. I had forgotten my mother was on the prowl, and I was eager to distances myself from her. Mycroft looked surprised to see me.

"What are you…?"

"Are you okay?" I asked with concern.

"I'll live." He said softly.

"Do you want someone to walk home with you?" I pestered.

"No. Go back with Sherlock, he's probably worried."

"I don't want you to be alone."

"Alone is the story of my life." He leaned forward and kissed my cheek gently. He walked down the street away from me. His shoulders never slumped, his head stayed perfectly held high. Mycroft was an English prince in every way.

I turned on my heel and walked towards Sherlock's apartment with as much dignity as Mycroft had. I ignored my mother who was trying to get my attention and stalked up the stairs. I slammed the door loudly. Doc and Sherlock looked up from where they were sitting. Sherlock's hands were jittery. "Jade go to my room." He said paternally. "Don't ever run out of here like that without my permission again. Not with a psycho out to get you."

I went straight to bed. There was nothing I wanted to do for the rest of the day, but sleep. And after all Mycroft's stories I was pretty certain what I would dream about.


	30. The Moffat Chapter

Mycroft looked down at the tiny four year old wrapped in his arms.

Their mother had become more violent since Father had left. Mycroft was only eleven himself, he didn't know how to handle it. Sherlock had come running to him with tears in his big sky blue eyes. He had smashed a picture frame while trying to reach for a toy that had been thrown on the table. He was trembling.

Mycroft stroked his hair tenderly, Sherlock was sobbing uncontrollably into his brother's shirt. "She's going to hit me." He hiccupped. "Crofty what do I do?" Sherlock was still too young to pronounce "Mycroft" correctly.

Mycroft pulled the toddler onto his bed and allowed him to lie on his pillows. He pulled the blanket up to Sherlock's chin and rubbed his tummy in the way Father used to rub his. Sherlock giggled. "You do nothing, Sherlock. You stay in my bed and sleep, okay?"

Sherlock chattered about how Mummy would still find him even if he hid in Mycroft's bed. Sherlock wrapped his tiny hand around two of Mycroft's fingers. Mycroft winked at him. "Don't worry." Mycroft kissed his forehead. "Sleep Sherlock. Go to sleep."

Obediently Sherlock closed his eyes, but not before hugging Mycroft so tightly he had to gasp for air. "I love you, Crofty."

"I love you too, honey." He waited until Sherlock was snoring softly before he went down to face their mother. He explained to her how he had been trying to retrieve Sherlock's toy and had accidentally bumped it. He then braced himself against the wall with his hands and waited for the repeating blows to fall on his back side. They didn't hurt too much. He was just happy Sherlock was safe.

oOo

"Mycroft!"

Sherlock was so excited to see his brother he made a flying leap for him and wrapped his arms and legs around his body. Mycroft laughed at eight year old. He hugged him tightly before releasing him, Sherlock clung to him still. He had been on a school trip to America for two weeks, and Sherlock was positively beaming to have him back.

"Get off you goose!" He teased. Mycroft tickled him under the armpits until Sherlock fell off giggling. The adoring look Sherlock gave Mycroft from the ground wasn't one Mycroft would ever forget. Mostly because Sherlock was looking through two black eyes to give it to him.

"Sherlock?" Mycroft knelt quickly at his brother's side. "What happened?" He gently turned the boy's head to see bruises peppered his thin neck. He made Sherlock stand. "Take your shirt off." He demanded.

Sherlock whimpered and shook his head. Mycroft ran his fingers through Sherlock's dark hair, the child rested his forehead on his leg. Sherlock was such a small child. He rubbed the back of his neck soothingly. "Please Sherlock, I need to see."

"It hurts to move my arms." He said miserably. "I can't lift them very high. I tried to talk to the police about a boy named Carl from school and Mummy thought…"

Mycroft felt rage well in his throat. He kept Sherlock's head against his leg so he couldn't see the anger in his eyes. The small boy nuzzled his palm affectionately. "Mycroft, my teacher asked about my owies…can I tell him?"

Mycroft froze.

Yes, Sherlock. Yes. Oh God, please tell him.

He repeated the words over and over in his head. But his mother's words rang louder. "If you ever tell anyone I will break a sledge hammer over your head." He looked down at Sherlock and saw his little head bursting open. He quickly wiped tears from his eyes.

"No, Sherlock. It wouldn't be very wise. If you have an issue with Mummy you come to me, okay?" He said in a monotone. Mother's loyal little slave.

"Okay." He said sleepily.

He picked Sherlock up and let him sleep on his chest. Sherlock may have been a peanut, but he was growing fast. Mycroft wanted to make sure he had every chance to play with the child while he was still young.

"One day, Sherlock, you and I are going to move out together. We'll have our own flat, or house far away from here."

"We'll go on pirate adventures together!" Sherlock said happily.

"All the time." He promised. "All the time.

oOo

It had finally happened.

Mycroft was eighteen. Mycroft was taking Sherlock as far away from their mother as he could. He hadn't been home in a month trying to find to a suitable place for him and Sherlock to live. He found one out in the country where Sherlock could stretch his now growing legs. It even had a pirate swing in the backyard.

He was working three jobs to pay for it, but anything was worth it for Sherlock. He crawled in through his younger brother's window. He didn't want his mother to know he was there. Not yet.

And he had always been good at climbing things.

Sherlock was sprawled out on his bed looking positively bored. He had a wooden sword in one hand and an old map Mycroft had drawn for him when he was little in the other. Mycroft smiled.

He crept up behind Sherlock and dropped his birthday present on his head. A pirate hat that was far too big for him. It fell over his eyes.

Any normal boy would have given a surprised "hey!". But Sherlock completely froze, expecting his mother to pounce on him with aggressive blows. He tried not to look scared, he even bit his lip until it was bleeding. He missed Mycroft terribly.

"Happy birthday, Sherlock." Mycroft said warmly before picking him up in the air and throwing him. Sherlock gave a tiny shriek of delight as he landed back in Mycroft's arms. His hands went straight to his head. His face broke into a huge smile.

"A pirate hat? A real one?" He pulled it off his head and examined it. "A proper pirate hat." He giggled. His hands delicately touched the soft feather that poked out of it. He let out a truly happy sigh.

He wiggled to be put down, and Mycroft set him carefully back to the ground. He knelt so he could look into the boy's eyes and immediately began inspecting him for injuries. Sherlock had none he could see on the outside, but… "Lift your shirt up."

"Mycroft…"

"Sherlock, please." Without waiting for his consent Mycroft gently pulled his shirt over his head. Sherlock had whip marks down his back. He was crying to himself.

"I told Mum about her new boyfriend's wife in front of him. He did this not her…she just let him." Sherlock said softly. "I thought she'd want to know."

"Sherlock, pack up." Mycroft said crossly. "I've bought a house, for us. Let's go have pirate adventures, let's go eat ice cream 'til we puke." He tickled the boy's chin. "Let's go get our happy ever after."

Sherlock whimpered and shook his head. "Mycroft, I'm a freak. That's why you left remember? Mum told me. I'm a worthless freak who was dragging you down and…"

Mycroft crushed Sherlock in a hug. "Shush. You are perfect, you're my little captain, alright?"

Sherlock nodded through tears. "It's over, Mycroft?"

"I have to tell her where you're going." Mycroft said into his dark curls.

"No! She won't let me leave." Sherlock squirmed in his brother's arms. "Let's just leave. Please."

"Come on, Sherlock. Get packed." He gave him a warm smile and ruffled his hair. "There's nothing she can do, you're coming with me."

He rose from his little brother's hug only to have him attach himself to his arm. Sherlock was cuddling Mycroft's arm desperately trying to get him to stay. Mycroft pried Sherlock's little body off him and walked with his head held high down the stairs. Sherlock hid his pirate hat. He didn't want his mother to destroy it when she got angry with Mycroft. He sat cross legged on his bed and packed nothing.

"Mother." Mycroft found her in the kitchen nursing a glass of scotch. He frowned. "Mum, I think it's time Sherlock came to live with me. That way you can sort out whatever you need to, and Sherlock can grow up happy."

"Is Sherlock not happy with me?" She asked innocently. Her words slurred together. "I could hardly stand to let you go, my love. Why would I give you Sherlock?"

"Mother this is serious. I'm willing to let the past years slid if you give me Sherlock now." Mycroft felt completely confident. "If you don't give him to me now I'll bring the authorities into this."

She smiled. A slow, evil smile that shattered Mycroft's control in one swoop. She rose with the bottle held loosely in her hand. Mycroft held his ground. "Let me tell you something Mycroft Holmes. That little bastard is mine for the next seven years, and there is NOTHING you can do about it. If you even think about going to the police, if I even hear a siren roaring down this road I will end him. I will put a bullet between those precious little blue eyes."

"Mother that is your son!" Mycroft shouted in surprise. "He's only a baby."

"I don't need a son. I need a punching bag." She said evilly.

"I am taking him." Mycroft squared his shoulders.

"You think so, my son. You think you've gotten your cleverness from your father. If you take Sherlock from me right now all I have to do is start sobbing into the phone. I'll tell them how you whipped Sherlock in front of me, and how I tried to stop you, but you pulled him from my grip."

"They won't…" Mycroft said weakly.

"Yes, they will." She sneered at him. "And just so you don't doubt me at any time….SHERLOCK!"

"No, Mother. Please." Mycroft pleaded. "Leave him be, he didn't do anything."

"SHERLOCK HOLMES!" She said with a sing song voice.

"Mother please! I'll do anything, but leave him be. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Sherlock peeked his head around the corner nervously. Mycroft saw him bit his lip. "Mother, what can I do? Please."

There was an odd glint in her eye. "Kneel." Mycroft got on his knees. Sherlock came into the kitchen. "Now you can ask for my forgiveness." She said as she sat at the table.

Mycroft felt tears of shame on his cheeks. "I'm sorry, Mother. I'm sorry I threatened you. I'm sorry tried to take Sherlock away. Please, please don't hurt him. Please. I'm sorry. You said you wanted a punching bag, use me. Use a man, not a child, please. It's his birthday."

She smashed the bottle over his head. Mycroft didn't even flinch, his body had become tone with muscle as he prepared to face his mother. She slashed his arm with a piece of glass and repeatedly punched him in the chest and stomach. He held his head high. She kicked him in the groin and still he didn't move. She took a small piece of glass and cut a long line from ear to the back of his neck. His skin crawled. She finished by sticking her foot on his chest and shoving him backwards. He landed at Sherlock's feet.

Their mother opened the screen door and slammed it shut behind her. "I'm going for a walk my darlings. I expect both of you here when I return."

"I told you, Mycroft." He sniffed. "I told you."

Mycroft rolled to his stomach and carefully pushed himself upward. He staggered to the stairs where his body collapsed with exhaustion. Sherlock gently put his arm around his neck and helped his older brother up the stairs. Sherlock kicked the door to his bedroom open. Mycroft unlaced his arm from around his neck. "Go…go sit on your bed."

Sherlock obeyed him swiftly. His little blue eyes watched Mycroft with concern. Mycroft stumbled and fell face first into Sherlock's lap. He knelt in front of his little brother and buried his face in his lap. He sobbed as Sherlock stroked his ginger hair.

"I am sorry Sherlock." He cried.

"It's alright, Crofty." Sherlock kissed his brother's head. "Thank you for the hat."

Mycroft pulled the slender body into his arms. Sherlock was far too big to sleep on his chest now so instead he curled into a ball with his head on Mycroft's stomach. Mycroft flinched under the gentle pressure of the small child. He let out a sigh.

"Sherlock if right now you had the greatest dream ever would that make you happy?" He muttered while playing with the dark hair.

"Yeah." He said sleepily into his brother's shirt.

"If I could give that to you would that be okay?"

Sherlock wrinkled his nose. "I guess so."

Mycroft started talking. He just talked to Sherlock over and over about pirates. About how Sherlock was a great captain, the greatest that ever lived. The younger Holmes sighed pleasantly as he began to dream about a famous eleven year old captain and his first matey.

Mycroft.

oOo

He climbed back in through Sherlock's window.

It had been a year since "The Incident". Sherlock was a big boy of twelve years old, and he was finally starting to grow into his wit. Much to Mycroft's dismay Sherlock used it with their mother more than Mycroft had ever dared to. Sherlock was sitting in the corner of his room, his hand was wrapped around his throat. Mycroft frowned.

"Sherlock?"

Sherlock's ears pricked at his brother's voice. He twisted around in his seat happily, he scrambled up from the corner and hugged his brother tightly. It had been about three months since they had last seen each other. Sherlock came up to Mycroft's chest now, he had hit his growth spurt and was becoming all elbows and limbs.

Sherlock said nothing, but made small excited noises. Mycroft ran his hand through Sherlock's dark curls, Sherlock leaned against him. The younger Holmes relaxed at the familiar soothing gesture.

"Happy birthday, Sherlock." He handed him a small microscope he nicked from his university. Sherlock hopped up and down happily, but still no words came out of his mouth. Mycroft was concerned. "Sherlock let me see your neck."

Sherlock shied away from his brother and set his new microscope down. He took Mycroft's hand and pulled him downstairs. Mycroft squeezed his younger brother's hand. "Is Mother home?"

Sherlock's tiny head shook. Mycroft let out a sigh of relief, he let Sherlock pull him into the kitchen area. Sherlock pulled at the collar of his shirt, and Mycroft saw why he wasn't talking. There was a deep indent where a rope had been used to stop his clever voice. Mycroft knelt in front of him. Why couldn't he just take Sherlock away? Why did his mother have to be as clever as Mycroft? He ran his hand over Sherlock's neck.

"Sherlock can't you just stay quiet?" He mumbled.

Sherlock made an odd strangled noise. Mycroft went into the cupboard and pulled out honey and a teaspoon. Sherlock clamped his mouth shut, he hated honey. "Open." Mycroft said sternly. Sherlock shook his head viscously. "Come on Sherlock, you're a big boy now. I shouldn't have to force you."

Sherlock slowly opened his mouth. Mycroft pushed the spoon between his younger brother's lips. Sherlock made a disgusted noise as the honey dripped down his sore throat. Mycroft grabbed a cup of water and made him swallow it all. Sherlock regained his voice.

"See if I can out smart Mum I win. She can beat me all she likes, but I am more clever than her." Sherlock was eager. "Mycroft, I'm really clever. Mum can't beat me anymore. If she hits me after I've said something it only means I'm right."

"Sherlock, if she beats you to keep you quiet how is that winning?" Mycroft sat in front his younger brother and made him look in his eyes. "Just behave. It's only for six more years. Don't speak out against Mother." He said firmly.

"Mycroft it's how I win…" Sherlock was confused. He thought Mycroft would be thrilled for him.

"Sherlock this," he pulled the boy's shirt collar away, "isn't winning." Sherlock flinched under the pressure of his brother's fingers.

"Mycroft that hurts." He was trembling, Sherlock thought he was going to be hit. Mycroft immediately released his collar and replaced the hurtful gesture with a soothing one. He rubbed the back of Sherlock's head slowly until his baby brother rested his head on Mycroft's shoulder.

"I'm studying law Sherlock. I haven't figured it all out yet, but there might be something I can do to become your guardian." Mycroft said soothingly.

"But until then…"

"No Sherlock! Just don't. Honey, please." He pulled him closer. "Just behave until you come live with me. Then you can be the biggest smart ass you want, but until then just be polite."

Sherlock snorted indignantly. "I don't want to lose to her anymore, Mycroft. I'm going to keep…"

"Sherlock shush." Mycroft said calmly. "Shhh. Listen to me, listen closely." He waited until Sherlock was leaning heavily into him, he lured him in with his deep voice. He applied gentle pressure to the back of his neck. "Sleep." He said forcefully. Sherlock collapsed against his brother like a rag doll. Mycroft took a deep breath in. "Sherlock from now on you're going to be polite to Mother. Don't lose your wit, always stay clever, but don't say rude things to her anymore. Keep them to yourself. If she's in a drunken rage you will go to your room and sit quietly." He didn't know if his instructions would stick, so he added. "My word is law Sherlock. Understand?"

The child nodded into his shoulder.

"Good. You can wake up."

Sherlock immediately pulled away from Mycroft like his touch burned him. Sherlock's lower lip trembled. "What did you do to me?"

Mycroft looked shocked. "Nothing Sherlock. I was rubbing your back…"

"Liar! I know what you did! Mummy taught me how to recognize when someone puts you in a trance!" He shouted hysterically.

So that was their Mother's game. Teach one son hypnosis, teach the other to recognize it. Put them both in a situation where one would feel compelled to use it and watch the trust evaporate. Sherlock pressed his back against the wall like a wild animal.

"Tell me what you did!"

"Sherlock…I told you to be polite is all. I don't want Mother to hit you anymore." Mycroft explained carefully.

"You changed me?" Sherlock spat. Tears were pouring down his bright blue eyes, but the angrier he grew, the icier his eyes turned. "You said I was good enough. You said I was perfect!" Sherlock darted pass Mycroft so quickly Mycroft barely had time to turn. "You think I'm a freak just like everyone else!"

"Sherlock!"

"Go to Hell! I never want to see you again!" He shrieked. "That was my mind, Mycroft! It was all I had."

"Sherlock, I didn't take it away from…"

The door slammed so hard the house shook. Mycroft got to his feet uneasily. "Sherlock!" He knocked on his little brother's door. "Come on, Sherlock. We're all we've got remember? It's just us two."

"I hate you. I'm alone, I've always been alone." Sherlock cried through the door. "I never should have trusted you. Love is stupid! The world hates me, and I hate it right back. And guess what Mycroft Holmes you're part of the world!"

Mycroft felt as though someone dumped ice water down his back. The only person he had ever felt affection for had just slammed the door in his face. Mycroft would never see adoring bright sky blue eyes again.

He would always see eyes of ice.

oOo

Eighteen, he was eighteen today.

Mycroft had called him earlier and told him to get out of the house as quick as he could. Mycroft had some important meeting with some important government officials and wouldn't be there to protect him. If he could, Sherlock would have chuckled. He would never trust Mycroft's "protection" again.

He had to pee. It was getting so bad that his knees were knocking together. He was in the middle his mother's favorite experiment, bad doggie.

She had locked him in a dog kennel completely naked, she tied his hands behind his back so he couldn't unlatch the lock, and to top it all off she had a collar tightened around his neck so he could barely breathe. At one point he wanted to tell Mycroft about this particular punishment, but had decided against it. Mother only used it when he was truly bad anyway and after finding his supply of coke…well she had been fairly angry.

The experiment was to see how many lashings Sherlock could take and stay quietly in the kennel. All he had to do to come out was scream, but like any Holmes boy he absolutely refused.

He wiggled uncomfortably in his bonds, blood was pouring down his back and thighs. He just wanted to lie down. He leaned against the side of the cage, his cage. When he was younger he used to imagine he was pirate captain being held captive, and Mycroft would save him. Now he knew better.

The pressure on his bladder was too great, urine leaked down the side of his leg. Sherlock was surprised he wasn't crying. He decided he had enough and rammed himself against the side of the cage. The door didn't budge.

Come on, come on.

He shouldered it again. Nothing happened. Out of frustration he threw his head back and screamed. The light overhead flickered on. Sherlock nearly fainted at the sight of his mother walking towards him with a bottle of some form of alcohol in her grip. He wanted to scream again. But no one would come.

"Have you learned your lesson, Sherly?" She asked sweetly. He hated being called Sherly, he HATED it.

"Never say more than 2 syllabal words in front of you Mother Dear. They're far too complex." Mycroft's instructions had stayed with him for only a year. He sneered.

She smashed the bottle of his cage and as the booze dripped into his open wounds he cried out in pain. He curled into a small ball. "Sorry. Mother, I'm sorry." He trembled.

"I'm sorry you're so easily offended by the truth. Please don't take it out on…"

She pulled him out of the kennel by the scruff of his neck. It was the opening he had been hoping for. He put his yearlong plan into action.

He shoved his side into her and in her drunken state she dropped him. He had managed to free his hands when she thought he was withering from the alcohol in his wounds. He grabbed his jeans from the basement stairs and shot up through the kitchen and ran into the old wooden door. Locked.

He pulled his jeans over his injured legs. He had one idea, it may not have been the smartest or the easiest, but he backed all the way up and rammed his body through the window. Glass spray everywhere, it shredded his bare chest and arms. He took off running down the road.

He shouldn't have been able to run as far or as fast he did, but Sherlock made it all the way into central London with his mother spitting and hissing miles behind him. He knew he had exactly two hours to find Mycroft. He hated his brother, but the minute his mother sobered up she'd be in her car looking for him. At least Mycroft would hide him.

Rain was beginning to plaster his dark hair to his forehead. He caught a glimpse of himself in a window and flinched. Mycroft was in a meeting with top government officials, there was no way they'd let him in the same building as any government official. He found the address Mycroft had given him and gently opened the door.

The secretary was the only person in the main lobby. Sherlock let out a sigh of relief. His earlier rush of adrenaline was coming to a halt and it was all he could to stay standing. He stumbled over to the desk. The woman behind the desk shrieked.

"Listen, please. Please. I know you want to call security, but my brother…could you call Mycroft Holmes? Please."

The secretary wasn't much older than he was. She puffed out her chest indignantly. "Sir, Mycroft Holmes in a very important meeting and has informed me not to let anyone…"

"Please! Tell him it's Sherlock." Sherlock's knees were giving out. "He'll come out for me. Please, tell him it's Sherlock. He'll come out for me…He's always come out for me…" He slowly, almost gracefully sank to the floor. The woman bit her lip. Hesitantly she pushed the intercom button.

"Sir."

"Anthea I told you not to disturb me." Mycroft's commanding voice shot the through the speaker.

"Sir, there's a young boy here to see you. He says his name is Sherlock."

The other end was silent for a long time. "Can you ask him to wait for another half an hour until we break?" Mycroft sounded tired.

"Sir, I don't think he'll last another half an hour…" She muttered as the poor boy began to convulse and throw up on the floor. "Jesus." She flew around the desk and held him gently. He smelled awful. Like piss and blood.

From behind her the old oak doors flew open, and there stood Mycroft.

He was at his brother's side in a matter of seconds. He pulled Sherlock into his arms. "You need a hospital." He said with alarm. Sherlock's whole body began to shake. He shook his head frantically. Their mother was a nurse, a hospital was the first place she'd look for him. "Sherlock…Sherlock...stop shaking. Alright, alright! You'll come home with me, okay? I'll look you over there, but if I deem you need to go to the hospital you're going. Fair?"

Sherlock nodded his head slowly. He hated feeling helpless, especially with Mycroft around. His older brother was pulling his arm over his neck. He helped Sherlock stand.

"Mr. Holmes." An official voice said behind them. "This meeting is not over."

"I am sorry, sir, but my brother requires my immediate attention…"

"Tell him to wait until the meeting is adjourned."

Mycroft looked at the official man without a hint of fear. "My little brother is bleeding through his jeans, and you want me to make him wait?" The man nodded. "Jesus, you're thick." Mycroft rolled his eyes. He pulled Sherlock outside and flagged down a cabbie. He carefully put Sherlock in first and gave the man his address. Sherlock leaned against the window.

Mycroft pulled off his expensive suit and threw it over Sherlock's slender shoulders. Immediately he checked Sherlock's pulse in his neck and wrist. They were surprisingly fine. He looked at the cuts on Sherlock's chest and was pleased to see none of them were too deep. It was his back, neck, and legs he was concerned for. Sherlock began bleeding through his suit.

"What did she do to you?" Mycroft demanded.

Sherlock said nothing.

"Sherlock, can you speak?"

He shook his head.

"Because you hate me, or because you physically can't talk?"

Silence.

"Sherlock say something. Anything if you can."

Sherlock looked at Mycroft with ice blue eyes. He shook his head. There was nothing he wanted to say to his brother except. "Free, Mycroft. Am I free?"

Mycroft looked at his brother through tears. He picked up his phone and dialed for the police. "Yes, Sherlock. You're free."

oOo

Mycroft had wanted them to go to America.

How dull.

Sherlock sat on the couch completely silent while Mycroft and his uncle spoke in hushed whispers. His little cousin was pestering him. She had been pestering him since he had first gotten there.

She wanted to touch his things, his books, his microscope, everything! The child was infuriating. He squeezed his eyes shut as she talked to him, but she wouldn't leave. She kept asking about his cuts and bruises. He clamped his mouth shut until he saw an opportunity to make a snid comment under his breath. The little girl didn't notice, she had run upstairs to get him something.

A Band-Aid.

She had given it to him shyly. He could see something like affection in her eyes when she passed it to him. She looked down at her little feet. He thanked her.

He blinked at the sound of his own voice. He hadn't planned on talking ever again, but this stupid little girl, who couldn't even get his name right, had made him want to talk. He picked her up.

He felt a tender lump growing in his throat that he wanted nothing to do with. He put her to bed without a second thought, but when she reached for him to pick her up and throw her again, he couldn't say no.

Why couldn't he say no?

oOo

He liked it when she held his hand.

Her whole hand wrapped around only two of his fingers. Her hand was soft and plump with baby fat. She had to stand on her tip-toes to reach for him originally, but eventually he leaned forward so she could walk normally. When he didn't want to lean forward he taught her to hold onto his pocket so could still hold onto him. They went for walks as much as they could. Sherlock couldn't believe there was another being in the world that looked up to him so much.

He watched Jade when she was alone with Mycroft. She was always polite to him, but she would look anxiously for him if he was away for too long. He secretly loved it.

He loved being needed. The little girl was becoming his rehab.

He taught her to play pirate and did not complain when she tackled him to the ground, even though his injuries killed him. He made sure he always won their wrestling matches, but just barely. She taught him how to play "braseball". He was a lousy pitcher, but she was patient with him.

He didn't realize how quickly the days were ticking pass.

"Sherlock, I was think we could go down to Florida before we head back to London, there's something down there that requires my attention." Mycroft hadn't been fired, in fact he had been promted for outstanding loyalty. Sherlock looked down at the little bundle of child sleeping on his chest.

"You go. I'll stay here." He absent mindedly stroked the little girls neck. She nuzzled farther into his chest.

"Sherlock, we have to go. We can't stay here forever." Mycroft said gently. Sherlock's grip tightened on the little girl. Mycroft raised his eyebrows. "Have you grown fond of something for once Sherlock?"

Sherlock scowled. He didn't want to explain himself to Mycroft. Jade was sucking her thumb noisily, Sherlock took it out of her mouth for her. "Can't we stay for a little while longer?"

"You'll see her again." Mycroft said shortly. "This isn't good-bye Sherlock."

He shifted his weight under the little girl. What was Mycroft's problem?

What is my problem? Mycroft wondered. Was he seriously jealous of a little girl who was now the center of Sherlock affection? Shouldn't he be glad his brother still had a heart after all he had gone through? He stalked out of the room without another word.

He didn't want to risk his voice cracking.

oOo

They sat side by side on the plane.

Mycroft was in awe of how easily Sherlock had solved the case of Mr. Thomas Hudson. Sherlock simply shrugged the praise away and ruffled through his pockets. He pulled a few American dollars out of his pocket to buy a soda. Mycroft blinked.

"Did you lose your wallet?"

"Mm, what? No. No, I was mugged by a four year and held at finger point. I had to give her my "booty"." He paid a lady for a coke and sipped it slowly.

"Did you give her any money?" Mycroft couldn't keep a twang of jealousy out of his voice.

"A couple American quarters. She thought she hit the mother load." He smiled at the memory.

"That was very brotherly of you, Sherlock."

Sherlock wrinkled his nose. "I would make as awful an older brother as you, Mycroft."

Mycroft shrugged.

He would never know.

oOo

He had nearly fainted when she said her name aloud.

His little cousin had found him once again, but she didn't seem to remember him at all. It was painfully obvious that she had PTSD. She looked like a Holmes, she even thought like Sherlock and climbed things like Mycroft.

But the love that had been in her eyes for him was gone.

He wondered if he could get it back.

oOo

Every day she grew on him more and more.

She had clever quips that sounded exactly like him. She didn't like Mycroft, which was perfect to him. The only thing he hated about her was she ate all his damn ice cream. He didn't eat much, but he loved ice cream.

She was starting to look at him with affection in her eyes again.

oOo

He had never laughed so hard in his life.

He had shot John directly between the eyes with a green paintball. His expression had been to priceless. There was nothing special about the game, no thought process that was needed. It was simply shoot or be shot. Jade peppered his back with blue paintballs. She was good aim with that stupid thing.

And then Mycroft showed up.

He had told him off. He had called Jade better than him and meant every word. When he poked his head back out on the fire escape to demand Mycroft's flash drive she was looking at him funny.

And then she told him she trusted him.

oOo

He had done everything he could to push her away.

She was so thick. Why couldn't she get it through her head it wasn't safe there? He was protecting her.

"I hate you."

"Get in line." He hissed.

Was that his words? Was that what he was saying to his rehab, the girl who had gotten him to talk? She was bleeding profoundly from her nose and all he wanted to do was punch her harder. Mycroft was sneering down at her.

The car began to pull away.

"Mycroft, see that she gets home alright." He said to the pavement with pain in his words.

"You did the right thing by giving her to me, Sherlock." Mycroft said gently.

"At least now she's safe."

oOo

Jesus.

They were going to break her arm. Sherlock did everything he could not to scream as childhood memories flooded him. Jade was cracking jokes the whole time, it was in her nature, but as the wrist snapped and she fainted Sherlock screamed.

Why had she done that? Why? WHY GODDAMN IT?

He didn't understand why she was so protective of him. He gathered her in his arms in the cold cell and tried to make her warm again. She had told him before she loved him, but it had been on accident.

Hadn't it?

oOo

He was crying.

Crying because he thought his little sister had died, crying because she was alive in his arms.

He was crying because he cared about someone besides John.

For the first time since he was eleven.

oOo

He liked the way she took care of him when he was sick.

He fussed and whined, but he liked having someone to change his bandages. His mother had never once tried to comfort him. Mycroft may have tried to prevent his beatings, but he never cleaned out his wounds or bandaged them.

Jade was leaning against him for support. She had just cleaned his chest wound for him and was absolutely exhausted.

She had screamed out for him again, he couldn't stand to hear that same awful sound. It had been the exact same way she had screamed for him when…she had almost been raped. Sherlock held her close to him as he remembered how helpless he felt. There had been nothing he could do for her, but obey the Black Lotus as quickly as possible. But she had still been hurt, mentally.

Which for a Holmes was the worst way to be hurt.

oOo

When her mother came for her, he finally said it.

I love you.

He hadn't said that to anyone in over twenty-one years.

He hadn't realized how sad he had been, until at last he was happy.

And now she was leaving him.

I love you too.

oOo

I woke up dripping in sweat.

I was lying in Sherlock's bed crying. I had dreamt of Sherlock's childhood and of a paternal Mycroft. I had even dreamt of a house Mycroft had bought for them that had a pirate swing in the backyard.

I had seen that swing before in Mycroft's apartment. It had been off in the corner collecting dust with a sad little captain's hat hanging on its mast.

They were waiting for a captain that would never use it.

I ran into the living room to find Sherlock and hug the bee-Jesus out of him.


	31. Mommy's little helper

I woke up curled deep into my brother's side.

He was snoring softly, his arms were folded protectively across his chest. My head was nuzzled between his forearm and his leg. Sherlock's stomach was moving forward and back, the smell of rain was strong on him. I curled tighter into a ball. Sherlock shifted his weight uncomfortably.

There was a small flash of light, and Sherlock groaned. Both of our eyes fluttered open, Doc was taking a picture. It took me a few seconds to understand what was going on, but Sherlock understood immediately and lunged for him. I fell to the floor with a loud thump.

"No! No! John, give it." Sherlock lashed out as Doc twisted away from him with the camera pressed strategically close to his stomach. He was laughing. He kept Sherlock at bay with his backside.

"Oh Sherlock, come on. It's for the blog, to show people you're normal." Doc dodged Sherlock's wild arms. He shoved the taller man away from him and jumped the couch. Sherlock followed closely after him. I remained on the floor, I had no plans of moving until Sherlock accidentally stepped on my hand. I swore loudly.

"OW!" I shouted at him. My hand throbbed with pain, Sherlock continued to ignore me. I had enough of his recklessness and dove at him, I landed squarely on his back. I wrapped my arms around his neck and tried to strangle him. He reached behind him, trying to pull me off.

"You jerk!" I yelled, "That really hurt, Sherlock!"

Sherlock said nothing, but flipped me over his shoulder and onto Doc. We rolled together painfully as the camera slipped from Doc's hand. I snatched it in our tumble and managed to roll farther away from my brother. I ran into his room and slammed the door.

"Jade!" Sherlock pounded on the door. "Give it to me!"

I flipped through the main menu on Doc's phone and found the picture. I could see why Sherlock didn't want it going online. I thought he looked adorable, his head was lolled back, his face a mask of peace, but he was drooling slightly. I giggled. "Cute."

"I. Am. Not. Cute." Sherlock punctuated each word with a pounding against the door. I sent the picture to my phone and Mycroft's, for protection. Well mostly black mail, Sherlock had been getting into my secret stash of junk food and this would keep him out.

Sherlock's pounding became more frantic. I opened the door with a wide grin. Sherlock snatched the phone from me. Doc was peeking over his shoulder mouthing, "Copies?"

I nodded. Sherlock held out his empty hand, I frowned at him. "No."

"Now."

"Go away."

"Give it."

"Never."

"Hand it over."

I reluctantly passed him my phone, he began shuffling through it to find the picture when Mycroft called. I tried to smother my laughter with my hand. Sherlock gave a me an odd look before answering. Mycroft's voice came from the other end. "Cute."

I snatched my phone back. "I know right! He's absolutely adorable! I keep telling him how cute he…Sherlock don't you dare!" Sherlock pulled one of my blowdarts from the shelf and shot me in the chest. I stumbled backwards as red paint splattered everywhere.

"Give it to me this instant!"

"Freedom!" I gave my best Scot's man yell and ran towards the door. Sherlock lunged, we rolled together out the front door and down the stairs in a tangled mess of limbs and swearing. Doc was bounding down the stairs after us. I was giggling fiercely as Sherlock tried to pin me. "Oh come on, Brother Dearest."

"Jayden Gra…oh you're thick." He muttered.

I couldn't see anything other than his shirt and chest because he was CRUSHING ME. I squirmed under him until I could free myself from my brother's stupid grip. I rolled out from under him and came face to shoe with an official looking man. Sherlock snatched the phone from my hand swiftly.

"Mr. Holmes?" The official man said uncertainly.

"What?" Sherlock was in no mood to talk to anyone.

"I'm here on behalf of…"

"Jade's mother. Clearly. My brother is handling the case, all documents, summons, etc., etc., go to him. Ah ha!" He deleted the picture from my phone and threw it at me. I missed it by a long shot and it caught the lawyer in the shin. He gripped it angrily.

"No, Mr. Sherlock Holmes this document is for you. If the girl's mother…"

"The girl has a name." Doc and I snarled.

"If Jayden's mother is granted custody you will be arrested for violating a legal restraining order. And given the circumstances I'd prepare for the worst."

"What? Why would you say something like that?" Doc demanded.

"You're kidding right?" The lawyer snickered rudely. "This is the same Mr. Sherlock Holmes that was proven a fraud and then faked his own death, and this Mr. Mycroft Holmes who let his own brother be abused for eighteen years. Please, Jade's mother has filled me in on everything."

I was convinced if Sherlock hadn't chosen that exact moment to latch onto my arm murder would have been committed. I saw red, but Doc must have saw dark dark red. He made a swing for the lawyer's nose. An umbrella handle attached itself to John's wrist preventing him from getting anywhere near the lawyer.

"Now, now Doctor Watson. We don't want our little friend here having any more reasons to take Jade away, do we?" Mycroft twirled the umbrella in his hand. Doc rubbed his wrist in pain. My eldest brother took a protective stance in front of Sherlock and me. "Good day to you Mr. Sawyer." Mycroft opened the front door for him.

"Yes, well if I could just…"

"Good day, Mr. Sawyer." Mycroft's voice was low and deadly, even Sherlock straightened a bit. The lawyer left in a huff, but not before I snatched the blowdart out of my brother's hands and shot him in the buttocks. Doc slammed the door before he had time to shout.

"Jesus will you two over behave?" Mycroft scowled. "I come over to warn you about your mother's lawyer and here you are attacking him."

"Jade's fault." Sherlock said accusingly.

"Yes. Yes it was." I said proudly.

"Jayden will you think things through next time, please? Use that big brain you're always bragging about." Mycroft rubbed his eyes tiredly. The dark circles under his eyes said he hadn't slept at all last night. I frowned at him.

"He was trying to say you two weren't good guardians." I snapped.

"He was trying to get a rise out of you, and he succeeded with all three of you." Mycroft snapped.

"He insulted you!"

"Sticks and stones." Mycroft shrugged.

"How about paintballs and blowdarts…" I muttered angrily.

Mycroft rested a gently hand on my shoulder, I could see amusement in his eyes, but he managed to keep a stern voice. "Jade."

"Yeah, yeah." I nudged him playfully. "I'm protective of my boys, Guardian."

Sherlock snorted, Mycroft rolled his eyes, and Doc gave me a warm hug. I leaned against him in desperate need of comforting, he lifted me off my feet a little ways. Mycroft was motioning for us to all follow him upstairs, we all shuffled up them quietly.

"How the Hell did she get a court date so fast?" Doc demanded, he slammed the door so hard the hinges splintered. It wasn't the first time one of us had broken the stupid thing, it wouldn't be the last.

"You know how you and Sherlock often accuse me of being the British government?" Mycroft settled himself into a kitchen chair. The three of us nodded in response to his question. Mycroft smirked. "You are about fifty-five percent right. Our father is the other forty-five percent, or at least he was, no doubt when the court systems heard whose widow was being harassed some of them jumped at the occasion. I have made some enemies at my…place of work."

"Mycroft, you are terrifying." I said bluntly.

"Thank you, dear, but the problem is becoming old family secrets are coming back to get us. There was a particular nasty incident with Sherlock and chemistry lab when he fourteen."

"Destroyed it?" I whispered to Sherlock.

"Demolished it." He said evilly. I went to fist bump him, but he misread my intentions completely and socked me arm before I could hit him. Leave it to him to not know what a fricken sign of affection was. I rubbed my sore arm.

"I don't know where she's getting this information because when I spoke to Father he had never mentioned any of it to her, which leads me to believe there's been an incident with my flash drive." Mycroft said in a business like tone.

"I have it. It's safe." Sherlock said coldly.

"At any point did you let it out of your sights?" Mycroft said with annoying patient. Sherlock narrowed his gaze, but nodded slowly.

"Wait. How would my mom get it even if Sherlock had given it to Moriarty?" I realized how absurd Mycroft was being. He only gave me a sympathetic look. "You are kidding me!" I shouted.

"Calm down." Mycroft said calmly. "We don't know for certain." Sherlock opened his mouth, but was quickly silenced by Mycroft's deadly gaze. "Signs are pointing that your mother may have made a deal with Moriarty at least to get you away from us, as part of burning Sherlock." Sherlock blushed. "Tell her."

"Later." Sherlock cut his eyes in a "not in front of a little girl" glance. I scowled, he sighed heavily and leaned his shoulder against me. "Thedayyouwerealmostrapedtheyforcedmetoplugitintoa computerandshowthemitscontentsafterwardsImanagedto replaceitwithanotherdriveIhadbroughtthatwasblankIc ouldn'tshowthemtheblankoneatfirstbecausethenhappyw ouldhavebeenalloveryouthereareyouhappy?"

"Dafuq did you just say?" My head hurt, he had said it so fast. Doc rolled his eyes and slapped him hard on the back.

"Sorry, he gets that way when he's upset."

He took a deep breath in and started over. "The day you were almost raped I was informed I had to provide them with the drive, or at least showed them I had it. When I refused Happy, the magic Chinese man, began removing your…needless to say eventually I was forced to comply and show them the real drive. When they were satisfied I replaced it with a fake one I had brought, but information had still been seen."

"Why would my own mother make a deal with the man who tortured my brother and me for two months?" I was dangerously close to shouting.

"Because I'm your half-brother." Sherlock mimicked Mom's voice. "It's really not the same." I punched him in the arm, I hated my mother for saying that to Sherlock. If Sherlock wasn't my brother, garbage wasn't smelly, the Daleks weren't evil, and Doc didn't secretly have a night light. He wrapped me in a brotherly headlock. "Because your mother is more deluded than any one of us."

"That's putting it delicately." I wiggled out from under his arm. "I can't believe my mother would go to Moriarty for…." Sherlock smothered me again with his arm. I choked. "Where would they even have met…For the love God Sherlock, get off!" I shoved him.

"I don't know." Mycroft rubbed his temples. "But if we can get proof of the two of them together….I need to make a call."

"You need a break." I said sourly. "Sit down all of you. We are watching T.V."

"No." Sherlock was already walking towards his room.

"Sherlock, get in here and have happy family time DAMNIT!" I jumped on his back and dragged him back into the room. "My mother is using my arch nemesis to take me away from my brothers, and I'm too young to drink, so you stay here!"

We put in Tarzan, which Sherlock immediately began analyzing.

"He would never survive in the wild. A child with gorillas would be bashed, eaten, and properly digested. Also why is the elephant afraid of piranhas? They're not native to…"

"Sherlock shush!" I pulled a blanket over his head and held it in place. He jabbed in the side with his stupid pointy fingers. I released him. We were falling asleep by the time they played You'll Be in my Heart. Sherlock fell asleep with his arms crossed over his chest, he looked like he had falling asleep against his own will. I laughed and covered him with a blanket. I fell asleep soon after Sherlock, neither one of us had slept in too long. Don't listen to them,

"I wish they would let me a take a damn picture." Doc chuckled. Cause what do they know? "Those two are made for each other."

We need each other, to have to hold

"This song is made for them." Mycroft laughed.


	32. God's cannon

32

**Hey fanfic peeps! It did not take this long for each chapter to get 75 views and I apologize! I am suffering from extreme business and mild writers block…. As you know, unless you skipped the last chapter (uncool bro!), I used the song **_**You'll be in my Heart**_** to describe Sherlock and Jade's relationship. Sorry about the end lyrics not being **_**italicized!**_** Stupid computer. Any who, **_**You'll be in my Heart**_** by Phil Collins was a brilliant way to pronounce the need between brother and sister, BUT for those of you smarty pants Sherlock fans who were paying attention it can also be used to describe another relationship in this fanfic. All together now…Mycroft and Sherlock! Surprise! Just when you think you've reached the end of childhood flashbacks I hit a big ol' writer's block for Jade and the gang and decide to throw this your way. Mycroft and Sherlock at one point were closer than Jade and Sherlock are today, in a way this song describes them…more. The need for those two to have each other around in their childhood was so strong Mycroft endured physical abuse for Sherlock, and Sherlock grew up adoring his brother…until he turned twelve (T.T). I think even in the real Sherlock the younger Holmes still secretly adores Mycroft….and Mycroft clearly loves Sherlock…okay sorry rant over. I do not own the lyrics to **_**You'll be in my Heart**_**, but they do appear in this chapter yet again. Enjoy!**

He HATED storms.

Sherlock pulled the ratty old blanket over his head as the thunder clapped louder outside. His small body trembled underneath his thin layer of protection. He forced himself to take deep breaths, he was a pirate captain, feared throughout the land, he was a six year old genius apparently, and…another clap of thunder sent him rolling of his bed…he was scared out of his mind.

When he was younger Mycroft used to hear the terrifying storms and come into his younger brother's bedroom to make sure he was alright. That was when he had been four, and Dad had still been at home, now there was only mother. She had forbidden either of her boys to leave their rooms at night under penalty of beatings. Sherlock didn't know which he hated more, thunder or beatings. Another flash of lightning and a huge boom of thunder.

Sherlock reached for his flash light and flicked it on in a panic. Mycroft's room was right down the hall, maybe, just maybe, he could sneak into his brother's room. His bare feet padded across his carpeted floor and slowly twisted the doorknob.

His mother's room was directly below his, but Sherlock was clever enough to avoid the squeaky floor boards. His flash light danced down the hallway, it rested on Mycroft's door. Sherlock, as any child would, dashed forward as though trying to out run the darkness that was behind him. He launched himself into his brother's room. Mycroft hadn't even stirred.

"Mycroft." Sherlock whispered. Mycroft didn't move, he was snoring louder than the thunder. Sherlock put the flash light between his teeth and climbed into his bed. He shook Mycroft's broad shoulders a little desperately as the wind howled louder outside. Sherlock whimpered his name.

At least his brother's eyes fluttered open, Sherlock flung his arms around Mycroft's neck before he could protest. Mycroft instinctively wrapped a protective arm around Sherlock's trembling body. His younger brother was already nestling deep under his covers. "Sherlock," he said sleepily, "you can't stay in here, honey."

"Mycroft, please! Just until the thunder stops!" He whispered urgently. "Please, Mycroft don't make me leave you." He curled his fists into his brother's shirt and buried his tiny face into it. Mycroft kissed his soft head, Sherlock had misunderstood him.

He scoped his younger brother up and held him closely to him. He carefully stepped out of his bed and into the darkness. "Come on, captain, we can't stay in my room in case the old sea hag wakes up and finds us." Mycroft had no intention of leaving Sherlock at the mercy of the storm by himself, despite his mother's threats.

Sherlock grasped his neck firmly. For one so small, he seemed so strong. "My arms will hold you, keep you safe and warm." He soothed Sherlock. "I will protect you from all around you." He wiped away his younger brother's tears. "I will be here, don't you cry."

Sherlock was nodding, already lulled by Mycroft's presence. He yawned softly. Mycroft rubbed his back tenderly and stepped into the child's room. He had to maneuver carefully to avoid fallen toys and those stupid Legos. Mycroft at last found the tiny boy's bed and laid down in it slowly, with Sherlock pressed closely to his chest. Mycroft pulled Sherlock's one blanket over both of the brothers. Sherlock flinched as another boom of thunder came from outside his window.

"Hey, hey." Mycroft rubbed his brother's arm gently. "Relax, Sherlock. I'm here, I've got you."

"Stupid thunder. It's not even deadly, it's just a series of noise that follows light…" Sherlock yelped as it boomed louder. Mycroft chuckled warmly.

"Actually, it's not a noise that comes after lightning." Mycroft whispered softly into his ear. "It's God, playing pirates, only he's got a real cannon, Sherlock. A proper pirate cannon. He's taking over the seven seas right now."

Sherlock rested his head at the base of his brother's neck and felt his vocal cords vibrate as he continued his story.

"He's just letting you know he's up there, Sherlock, and that when you get there, he'll whoop your little butt at pirates." Mycroft was beginning to fall asleep at his own words.

"He will not!" Sherlock yawned. He curled into a ball on Mycroft's chest, happy to be falling asleep warm for once.

"Will too. Where's your cannon little man?" Mycroft giggled.

"Oh…Do you think he'd let me borrow his?"

"Only if you stop being scared of it, every time it goes off."

"I bet God has a really nice pirate hat." Sherlock mumbled.

"I'm sure he does."

"One day I'll have one too."

Mycroft nodded numbly. "Maybe one day."

"Mycroft, when I go to Heaven…you'll be there too right?"

No. No he wouldn't. He knew in his heart no God would let him into Heaven after he let his mother beat his baby brother every other day. Sherlock would have to go to Heaven without him, but Mycroft could be happy in Hell. As long as God took care of Sherlock, and let him use his cannon whenever the little boy asked.

"Sherlock, when destiny calls you…you must be strong. I may not be with you…but you've got to hold on." He kissed the head of the already sleeping boy. "Even if you're in Heaven and I'm not….you'll be in my heart."


	33. Everything new is old again

Sherlock was so stiff it looked like Mycroft rammed his umbrella up his ass.

The poor baby was dressed up in his Sunday best and hating every second of it. In my opinion he looked quite handsome in his tuxedo, which thanks to Doc was perfectly ironed. He had a long green tie that he could not, for the life of him get to lie straight. I giggled as I helped the world's smartest man fix his tie.

"I hate this." He growled.

"You're…"

"If you say cute I will take that bloody arm out of the freeze and beat you to death."

"You're very handsome, brother dear." I finished straitening his tie and hopped down from my perch. Sherlock had been too tall for me to reach a proper tie, tying angle. He didn't even crack a smile, he was clearly unhappy.

His hands were shoved as deep as his pockets would allow, his normal cocky head tilt was gone as he trained his eyes on the wooden floor, he looked like he very much wanted go back into his room and hide. But it wasn't the tuxedo that was bothering him, he had given Doc a whole week to iron it. Which possibly meant he wanted to make sure he looked okay for our court appearance. He had laid out his outfit three nights previous, which also suggested he was secretly proud of his get up.

So what on God's green Earth was bothering him?

"Sherlock, when was the last time you and Mycroft were at court together?" I asked carefully. His eyes narrowed, if looks could kill the floor would have evaporated. The last time Sherlock had been to court it had been for Moriarty, but the last time both Holmes boys had been in court was when Sherlock's mother…

"Shouldn't you get ready yourself, Jayden?" Doc intervened, he had poked his head out of his own room. His hair was greased back, and he was tying a bowtie around his neck. I blushed, I had no desire to put on…that. "Jade, Mycroft will be here in twenty minutes."

"I'm going. I'm going." I grumbled. I walked into Sherlock's room swiftly and shut the door. The first thing I did was curl my hair, I was stalling for time. Much like any abnormal girl I hated dressing up. On Sherlock's bed was a navy blue dress meant for me. "God give me strength." I said crossly.

After much glaring, staring, swearing, wiggling, and zipping I came out into the living room. Doc sat in his lazy chair with a cup of coffee pressed to his lips. Sherlock was standing off to the side completely silent. In the time I had changed he, himself had greased his hair back into a more cooperative state. His eyes did a quick dart from Doc to me, I blushed.

"What?" I asked, daring Sherlock to make a comment.

"Nothing." Doc said warmly. "You're very beautiful."

I blushed, I really wasn't. I was sure Doc was just being polite, especially with the awkward way Sherlock kept glaring at me. The doorbell rang.

"That'll be Mycroft." Doc said rising.

"Clearly." Sherlock and I said together.

Doc rolled his eyes. "Come downstairs when you've grabbed a piece of toast. I mean it Jade." He winked. "You're too thin."

He left with a little bounce in his step. Doc clearly liked being dressed in a nice tux, my brother and I scowled.

I walked into the kitchen and pulled the toast out of the toaster. I pulled out a knife and butter, Sherlock's eyes were boring into my back. I finally put the knife down in an angry huff.

"What? Seriously, what?"

"How can I protect a little girl when she comes out looking like a grown woman?" He sounded not angry, but almost sad. He rubbed the back of his neck and shook his head. He turned on his heel without another word, I counted his footsteps going downstairs.

Had the great Sherlock Holmes just paid me a compliment?

"You look absolutely horrid in the color blue, by the way!"

Ass.

I grabbed my toast and ran after him. He was sliding into Mycroft's car as I came out of 221B, Doc held the door open for me like a gentleman. I gave him a small punch to the shoulder, which caused him to smile.

Mycroft grinned when he saw us pile into his car all dressed up. Sherlock humphed, I blushed, and Doc rolled his eyes. I watched his eyes darting around in the rearview mirror, they narrowed.

"Jayden. Sherlock." He twisted in his seat with his hand held out. "Give them to me." Sherlock gave him a look of innocence which I tried to mimic. "Now."

We reluctantly passed him our blowdarts. I noticed Sherlock was passing him the red one. I frowned. "Where's my green one?" Sherlock gave me a confused look.

"I left it in the flat."

"Why?"

"Because that one's mine, and I didn't want to lose it." He said shortly.

"So you use mine?" Doc demanded.

"Oh please, you're a lousy shot anyway."

"Sherlock!"

Sherlock opened his mouth to retort, but I leaned heavily against him. It only stopped him for a few seconds and once again he was rambling on about Doc's idicracy. I pinched him when I felt he was getting too rude. The jerk had starting comparing poor Doc's intelligence to a very caffeinated squirrel.

We sat in a terribly awkward silence for about forty-five minutes. I fell asleep against Sherlock's shoulder, he didn't complain but he did wake me up with a sharp jab to the side. "Mycroft wants to stop for breakfast." Sherlock didn't sound like he agreed with his brother.

"Then he can go by himself. I'm sleeping." I leaned back against Sherlock and felt him shrug at Mycroft. Mycroft let out a sigh of disapproval, but said nothing as him and Doc walked towards a coffee shop.

"We're not going to win. Are we?" I asked drowsily.

"I don't know." Sherlock said fairly.

"You know everything." I muttered.

"I notice. And I can't notice the future, not like this anyway."

It was clearly bothering Sherlock that he can't figure out the outcome of our trail. It was etched deep in his tired eyes and in his brow. His hair was fighting its way out of the grease and starting to curl again. Sherlock looked like a little boy. I leaned back against his shoulder. "We'll figure it out."

"Do you still have nightmares?" He asked randomly.

"Yeah. Every night."

"About Moriarty?"

"I die. At a pool, I get shot through the stomach. Dad's there, so are Mycroft and Doc and you…I usually die in your arms. Sometimes Doc's. I think Mom shoots me, but other times I think it's Moriarty." I close my eyes, I really don't want to talk about it. "Why?"

"Because you were mumbling in your sleep last night."

"What'd I say?"

"You said you were scared."

I remembered waking up last night and seeing Sherlock stare at me from his lazy chair. His face was half hidden, but I could still see concern in his eye. I lazily wrapped my hand around two of Sherlock's fingers.

"It was a frighten nightmare." I justified myself.

"It's a frighten thing to die." Sherlock said in agreement. He rubbed my hand gently with his thumb.

"How would you know?" I mumbled, falling back asleep.

"Because I've done it before."

oOo

The damn press was there, Doc was enraged.

"How can they try to make this about Sherlock's suicide? This is about a little girl!" He fumed.

"Thanks Doc." I glared at him. I was a young adult of eighteen, I was mature and clever. As we stepped out into the bright afternoon I stuck my tongue out at a particularly rude reporter. Sherlock giggled.

I wanted to take my brother's hand, I needed to be reassured that we were going to be okay. However, I knew if I grabbed his hand in public Sherlock would more than likely spaz. I settled for staying as close to him as I could. Mycroft walked two steps ahead of us, Doc was two steps behind.

Sherlock kept his eyes trained on the court house as if there was nothing else that mattered. I tried to mimic his gaze, but out of the corner of my eye I saw my mother coming out of her car. I began panicking, Sherlock must have noticed because he gently took me by the shoulders and guided me inside.

"You're fine, Jade." He said shortly.

"Can I swear, Sherlock?" Normally I would have cared, but it was not a nice word.

"Only if it's towards your mother."

I proceeded to call her a Continuously Unkind Nasty Thing. Sherlock muffled a laugh, but Mycroft turned to give me a disgusted look. "Jayden." He said warningly.

"What?" I gave him an annoyed look. Even Doc didn't see a problem with calling my mother a Continually Unattractive Negative Twat.

Sherlock's eyebrows raised. "A Conspiring Unintelligent Neglecting Twit."

Even Mycroft started to smile.

"A Crackpot Unglued Nutter Twinkie." I giggled. Doc broke into fits of laughter and had to be shushed by Sherlock. In all honesty I had gotten most of my unusual swear words from the dear doctor, who days previously called Sherlock a smoothed ball needle prick bug…sucker.

He didn't say sucker.

"Shush. Shush. This is serious Jayden, Sherlock."

"All Cocky Uncivilized Naïve Threatening things are, Mycroft. Jade and I are just labeling idoicracy by species."

Mycroft managed a small smile, but was also matching eyes with the she devil herself. Mom's black eyes were challenging and unfortunately fearless. Mycroft's green eyes were meeting them with an equal challenging force, but because he was a Holmes he also had the ability to look bored. As if Mom was no threat to him at all. He rested a hand on my shoulder softly, I glared at Mom's lawyer.

"Why can't she just leave me alone?" I hissed. I had a right to be happy. Didn't I?

"You're a source of comfort to her Jade." Sherlock said lazily. "She lost her husband and needed something to coddle, you weren't the only one to suffer from PTSD. You're mother hid it well, managed to get you drugged up and dependent and now wants you back in that state. Once you've left Mycroft and me no doubt you'd need comfort, who better than your mother. What the moron doesn't realize is you're not six, and you realize what she's doing, and that she is in fact the source of your pain. However, once you're back on the PTSD tablets you'll become dependent again. The perfect child."

My knees nearly gave out, but instead of reaching for Sherlock I grabbed Doc's hand. He steadied me. I threw my brother a "you're not serious" look. He nodded, he cocked his head.

"Your mother is…interesting."

"Shut up, Sherlock." I snapped. "Shut the Hell up. This is my mom, okay? I just found I've been her fricken lap dog since my dad died…vanished…left…whatever! Because she needed comfort. I needed comfort too and all she did was drugged me!"

Sherlock leaned forward, almost menacingly. There was something different his eyes, they weren't brotherly, they were cold. Like the day I first met him.

"Yes, well my mother wanted comfort and decided to beat the shit out of me. I wish all she had done was drug me up, which every now and then she did. Deal with it, Jade. It's over, it's done. Keep looking back at yesterday, and you'll trip on today. Now focus, stop being boring, boring won't win our court case. Use what I just told you on the stand, you'll have to be quick witted like me or…oh who am I kidding. I'll get you flash cards, I can't risk you mucking this up."

"What do you mean? Aren't you going to be with me?" I asked.

"Don't be thick. Court systems don't enjoy my company. Now…" Sherlock was rambling on as others filed their way into the court. I waited for Mom and her lawyer to go inside.

And then I punched Sherlock in the chest with all my strength.

He fell to the floor with a grunt of pain. Good. I had wanted to hurt him because old Sherlock was hurting me. There was too much happening at once. My mom being a nutter, my terrible nightmares where I watched my mother and Moriarty put bullets through my stomach every other night. Where I also died in my brother's arms trying to convince him that he needed to keep going because if he died I'd kill him.

I knew Sherlock. I knew comfort wasn't his thing unless he was put on the spot, unless he had to be. Well, right now he had to be. I needed him, I needed my brother so much it hurt. And to see him disappear in seconds and have old Sherlock's icy blue eyes glare at me was too sickening for me to deal with. I couldn't get through the day with old Sherlock telling me how dull I was every four seconds.

"If you're going to be a dick to me go home." I kept my voice even and cold, I was mimicking Mycroft. "I don't need this Sherlock. Not here. I need my brother, I need my big brother alright? If you can't be him go home. I'm sure I can manage with Mycroft and Doc." I took a deep breath because keeping my voice even was starting to become a struggle. "I don't want you to leave, I want you to stay. But damn it, Sherlock, please go in there as my big brother, not the Great Sherlock Holmes."

I expected him to leave. I would have gone home if someone punched me in the chest. I would have gone home if someone insulted me. I would have gone home if someone put all that pressure on me to be a good sibling for once. I guess that just went to show how much Sherlock I was really like.

Because going home is exactly what he did.

**Feel free to review with some ideas…not to sound desperate, but I'm running out of them. None about the court scene this is already pretty planted in my head, but…I'm coming close to the end, and it's sad for me ****(T~T) ****I love ya'll I don't wanna say goodbye****….**** I just need some inspiration to fill in more chapters before…meep. Do you guys want more young Sherlock? Young Jade? Young Jade and Sherlock? Realistic Sherlock fluff? Should I shoot someone? Mwhahahaha….only in the fanfiction…of course.**


	34. The curious case of Holmes vs Holmes

I couldn't believe Sherlock left.

Actually I could completely believe Sherlock had left, which was probably why I wasn't an absolute mess of misery and tears. Doc was going to chase after him, but I stopped him by holding his arm. I looked at him with disappointment clear in my eyes, Doc was my only base aside from Mycroft. And he was so completely oblivious to everything but the court case he was already entering the courtroom.

"Yeah, alright." Doc muttered. His arm circled my shoulder.

Together we trudged into the court, I peeked over my shoulder hopefully. But Sherlock's tall figure was gone. Doc's arm tightened comfortingly around me and sighed.

I took my place next to Mycroft, at what I called the lil' lawyer tables. Doc sat directly behind me, the judge came into the room, and we all sat down quietly. Mycroft's lawyer rose first, his opening testimony was a well thought out one. I wondered how much Mycroft had to help him with it. He talked about our father's will, how I wanted to stay with Mycroft and Sherlock, and how leaving them could be hazardous to my health.

Boring stuff like that.

I took a pencil that had been thrown on the table and a piece of blank paper. I stuck the pencil in my mouth and ground down on it with my teeth, claiming it as my own.

The prosecuting lawyer was talking about how unstable I was and how closely monitored I had to be. He also pointed out that because my older brother Sherlock wasn't even able to attend my court date, a proper visual could not be kept over me. My mother dabbed at her eyes dramatically as he went on to say the horrible things I had said to my mother over the phone. I accidentally snapped my pencil in half.

"Damn."

"Jade." Mycroft nudged me.

"Now what am I supposed to do?" I questioned my eldest brother.

"Listen?" He hissed.

"Dull. Do you have another pencil?"

"No. Shush."

"Oi!" I called to my mother's lawyer. "Do you have a pencil? Mine broke."

"Young lady," the judge said angrily, "it is in your best interest to listen…"

"What? To all the nice things Mr. Sawyer the lawyer is saying about me? Listen your highness, not to sound like Sherlock, but this is so, incredibly, completely boring. I mean really your opening statement consists of phone calls you can't prove, past events that didn't happen, and you seriously think if I needed "constant monitoring" my mother would have let me on a sixteen hour flight, ALONE, with PTSD? Moronic."

"Jayden." Mycroft snapped.

"None of this would have happened if you had given me a pencil."

The judge's mouth hung open in a very unappealing way. I stifled a giggle for Mycroft's sake, but on the inside I was dying of laughter. Doc tapped me on the back and handed me a small mechanical pencil. I thanked him.

Mom's lawyer finished with a strong concern that it wasn't safe for me to live with my brother's because of past enemies made. The Skype conversation of Mom when she found out about Moriarty was played and a shadow seemed to pass over the court room. I was called to the stand, I brought along my drawing supplies.

I began drawing Sherlock shortly after the video began. I drew him from my angle when he slept in my lap at nights. His eyebrows and eyes came first, then his big ol' nose. I took to shading his face together once his lips were done.

I missed my brother.

"Ms. Holmes."

I said nothing.

"Ms. Holmes."

Oh for the love of God.

"Ms. Holmes, please answer the question."

There had been a question?

I shot Mycroft a look. He set his voice very low and mumbled, "They asked if you were truly taken hostage." He was blushing, Mom smirked.

I rolled my eyes and twisted the scar on my arm was visible for all to see. "Clearly."

"Care to elaborate on what happened?" The lawyer asked accusingly.

"No."

"We'll come back to it later then?" Mom said softly to the lawyer. Mycroft and I snarled at the same time.

"Is it true at one point you participated in self-harm?" Mom's lawyer was asking.

"No." I said darkly. "I was playing with a candle, and I burned my leg. It wasn't self-harm, it was being fourteen and bored. My mother only told doctors I had done that to get me more PTSD pills."

"There are cuts on the inside of your arms." The lawyer was trying to be as observant as Sherlock.

"You just asked if I was held hostage, and you assume I have no marks to show from it? Jesus, Mom. At least find a smart lawyer next time."

They called Mycroft to the stand next, I jumped down and gave him a small nudge as he went pass. He smiled a little. I sat back down and went back to drawing Sherlock.

He asked some opening questions that I missed, but at last one caught my interest.

"Mr. Holmes, is it true you were abused as a child?"

The pencil rolled out my hand.

What did any of that have to do with me?

"Yes." Mycroft said easily. It was as if the lawyer asked if Mycroft wanted ice cream.

"Was Sherlock Holmes abused as well?"

I turned to look at my brother, his eyes had darkened.

"Yes."

"Did you know about it, Mr. Holmes?"

"If you're going to ask me why I allowed my little brother to be continually abused after I left my mother's house let me answer it for you. I was young, I thought I could handle my mother and make her see reason into giving my custody of Sherlock, and she proceeded to tell me if she ever caught wind of the police coming to take Sherlock away she'd shoot him. In the head. I was eighteen, he was eleven."

"And you believed her?"

"Every word."

"Do you and Mr. Holmes the younger speak very often?"

"No. We have recently begun speaking to each other more frequently for Jade's sake."

"Does Jade primarily stay with you or Sherlock?"

"Sherlock."

"So this child has been in your custody for a little under half a year and in that time she has been out of you sight ninety-eight percent of the time. Half of that because she was being tortured."

"In the time she has been at my brother's she has been closely watched…"

"By whom? Your brother? The man who faked his own death? The retired army doctor, with no biological ties to your family what so ever? By whom Mr. Holmes?"

We were going to lose. The judge was slowly nodding, Mycroft's face was falling, and worst of all Mom's smirk grew into an evil grin.

"That's not…" I started shouting.

"Fair." A deep baritone voice said behind me. "No, Jade. I think that's perfectly fair. We have caused you an ample amount of grief and both of us are unfit guardians."

Damn. I knew I had made Sherlock angry, but not this angry.

"In fact I wouldn't give custody to either of us if this court was smart." He had a smart ass smirk on his face that I desperately wanted to punch off. "But seeing as Jade is a normal legal adult, I'd say there's not much you can do if she wants to stay here."

The court room was deathly silent.

"Sherlock…" I mumbled. I wasn't a normal adult, I had PTSD, I suffered horrible attacks at night when nightmares struck me. Sherlock grinned all the same.

"My daughter is…" Mom was raising.

"Fine. Healthy. Normal. Stupid."

I growled at him.

"Unwell."

"Ah, yes, well I can prove you wrong on that." He was having too much fun. He looked like a gleeful little boy. "How many pills did you send with Jade?"

"I don't understand…"

"Well that's too bad considering it's an easy question. You're an over protective, helicopter mother so what? Three bottles?"

"Four."

"Four then. All unopen? All fresh and ready for two months in England?"

"Yes." My mother said stiffly.

"Well then…think fast." Sherlock chucked a clear bag with four unopened bottles of antidepressants at her head. He raised an eyebrow questioningly. "If Jade was really suffering from PTSD she would be having a panic attack right now from stress and lack of medication. Clearly she's fully functioning, even a little nonchalant. A perfectly healthy adult should not need to sit through a court hearing, so…" he wrapped his arm around my neck and gave me a noogie. "Are we done here?"

"Sherlock…" I wrapped my arms around his waist and buried my face in his chest.

"Stop it." He shoved me off.

"So you weren't mad?" I asked.

"At what?" He asked confused.

"At what I said…"

"You said something?"

"Sherlock…I punched you."

"No you didn't."

I didn't care that he hadn't paid attention, I was too busy refraining from hugging him.

"You could have easily bought different bottles in England." Mom shrieked.

"American brand." Sherlock was eyeing me curiously. "You punched me?"

"You had it coming."

"Could have gone to America." The lawyer snapped.

"Hurt chest, broken ribs, couldn't fly. Did it hurt?" Sherlock was raising his eyebrows.

"You fell on your butt."

"Liar."

"My daughter is sick and unwell!"

Sherlock turned so quickly his coat twirled above them ground. His lips were pulled into a snarl. "My sister is fully functioning. She may have the intelligence of an uncivilized wombat, but she is perfectly healthy. You are a sick woman to put your own child through a near overdose of pills just to keep a little lap dog instead of a daughter."

"I never…"

"Oh please. What sort of mother sends four bottles of fresh pills for two months?"

"Mr. Holmes, is there any way to prove, one hundred percent, your sister is over her PTSD?" The judge said tiredly.

Sherlock frowned, he looked to me. He slowly opened his mouth when the lawyer cut him off.

"We could induce an attack."

The courtroom erupted, Sherlock had a protective look cross his face, Mycroft and Doc were both shaking their heads.

Ah Hell.


	35. Band-Aids

"I _was_ happy to see you."

"Stop grumbling."

"How about I hit you again?"

I was standing as close to Sherlock as I possibly could. It was nearly impossible not to lean into him, his warmth was welcoming. The judge was arguing with Mom and her psycho lawyer about inducing a PTSD attack. I poked Sherlock's arm gently.

"Are you sure I won't have an attack?" I whispered. "I still don't do well at night…"

"You should be fine. In case you haven't noticed it's not exactly night outside."

The judge's argument was getting heated, Mom was insisting with dramatic hand gesture that Sherlock needed prove me sane. I rolled my eyes.

"Have her recall the events that occurred in captivity." Mom demanded.

I shot Sherlock a pained look. He pulled his blazer off his shoulders and dropped it over my eyes, I reached for it and wrapped it around my shoulders. Sherlock really was a good older brother.

"Your wife died in a car crash recently." Sherlock said softly without laying his eyes on the judge, he took a small step between me and the stand. Doc swore, Mycroft motioned for him to shut up, and I waited.

"How could you have possibly…?"

"Ring around your neck. Too small for your finger, so it must be someone close to you, someone you care about, maybe a mother, less likely because it's relatively new. If it had been a divorce it's unlikely you would be wearing it around your neck, also unlikely that you'd keep a picture of her in your wallet.

Now the car crash. You came into the court room with gym shoes, shoes that have seen a great deal of walking in a recent period of time. How do in God's name do you know that, Sherlock? Because you're still obese and your shoes have clean laces. Highly unlikely that a man who can hardly touch his toes would change his shoe laces."

I elbowed him.

"Rude?"

"Unnecessary." I confirmed.

"Truthful."

"Irrelevant."

"Honest."

"Jackass."

"Obviously."

He threw me a reckless grin and continued.

"There's also a prominent scar on the back of your hand, the stiches have only been removed with in the last week. You've been itching at it from the beginning of the case…"

"Is there a point to all this Mr. Holmes?" He demanded loudly.

"No I was just saying it to cover up John's overly long gas release."

Doc blushed.

"Of course there is a point to it. If I told you to recall the horrible events that occurred, that you clearly feel guilty for would you react unemotionally?"

The judge looked absolutely stunned. Sherlock cocked an eyebrow.

"Forcing Jayden to recall events that involved the torture of both of us will undoubtedly cause a common emotional response. It is not fair to demand something of this caliber to a child and expecting her to be emotionless when you yourself wouldn't be able to do it either."

"There is emotional, and there is PTSD, Mr. Holmes." Mom's lawyer countered.

"Yes, there is also borderline crazy and certifiably insane. Guess which one you're representing."

"Sherlock…" I stepped forward next to him. I caught the back of his sleeve so no one could see the comfort I took from my big brother. I took a deep breath in. "About two and a half months ago I was taken hostage be a group called the black lotus…"

I recalled the terrifying events that had unfolded in exactly two minutes and fifty-two seconds, I maintained my vice grip on Sherlock's sleeve the whole time. By the end of it Mom was feigning tears, and Mycroft was sitting solemnly in the back with his bowed. The pained look on his face nearly killed me. It was far worse than any fake tears my mother was producing.

The judge looked coldly straight at my mother, his eyebrows were raised. "Satisfied Mrs. Holmes?"

"I want to talk to Mycroft." I whispered to Sherlock.

"Why?" He demanded.

"He's about to be sick, Sherlock."

Sherlock looked over his shoulder and shrugged. I took a small step towards my eldest brother, but was stopped by my mother's demands for more proof. The judge was sighing heavily, Mycroft rain his fingers through his hair. I took my mechanical pencil and threw it at my brother because he was diverting his eyes and it was highly inconveintant for me. It hit him on the shoulder, causing him to recoil. I gave him a small smile and mouthed, "I'm okay."

He responded with a small smile that looked more like a grimace. I glanced around for something heavier to throw at him, like a shoe, or my mother. But she was out of range and the heels on my shoes would have probably taken the poor man's eye out. I settled for texting him.

**Not your fault, dummy. –Jade**

**Focus on the trial, you are being rude. –M**

**I excel at rudeness. –Jade**

**Yes, I heard you refer to Sherlock as a "jackass" –M**

**Funny? –Jade**

**Spot on. –M**

I grinned down at my phone and then up at Sherlock. He rolled his eyes, his gaze returned its focus to the judge. The judge stroked his chin deep in thought. "When are your PTSD attacks at their worst, Ms. Holmes?"

"When she's alone." My mother said quickly.

"The question was asked towards your daughter." The judge said not unkindly.

"Yes, please shut up." Sherlock grumbled.

"She's not wrong." I said quietly. I didn't want to be alone, the very idea sent me leaning against Sherlock for comfort. His presence was steading. "I used to have attacks when I was lonely." It was a soft whisper.

Mycroft was shaking his head fiercely. "Hasn't she been through enough today?" He demanded.

Of course not, that'd be way too easy and polite for the court to just let me go home with my brothers. The judge was ruling I should be taken into a room by myself and monitored by the bailiff. Both Sherlock and I growled.

"She shouldn't have to…"

"I demand comfortable clothes if I have to go through with this." I cut my brother off. "I am not being fashionable uncomfortable if no one is watching! And I demand drawing supplies and snacks." My stomach growled in back up. Sherlock reached into his blazer pocket and handed me a chocolate bar. I narrowed my eyes. "Is this my chocolate bar?"

"Yes, because I gave it to you."

"This is from my stash."

"I have no idea what you are…"

"How the hell did you find it?" I demanded.

"It was hardly a difficult find. They were in your box of giant Band-Aids." Sherlock said boredly.

I didn't know whether to laugh, punch him, or give him a confused look. "My box of Band-Aids?"

"Giant Band-Aids. Yes."

"You mean pads?"

"What's the difference?"

I looked around the courtroom. It was probably a conversation for another day. "Sherlock this chocolate is for emergencies only. That's why it was with the…giant Band-Aids…"

"What does chocolate, medical, have to do with anything?"

"Well…sometimes woman get…um…boo-boos…and they get sort of moody and well, see…."

"Jade." Mycroft cut me off. "Give Sherlock the birds and the bees talk later, please."

"Sorry, Mycroft." I giggled.

The ruled for an hour recess, so I could go home and change. On the way out Doc and I were trying to explain carefully to Sherlock what pads were for.

"Puberty." Doc said finally sick of beating around the bush. "Puberty."

"Don't be ridiculous, I know what puberty is. Jade isn't old enough for puberty." He scoffed. I rolled my eyes and followed him out.

Mycroft was staying behind shaking hands with our lawyer. "Thank you, Mr. Moran. I was pleased with your opening statement."

"No problem, Mr. Holmes. I want nothing more than for you and Jade to stay together." He winked and walked towards the break room.

**I am so sorry that took so long, I was on vacation! ****(T~T) ****I tried to include some suggestions previously given to me in the reviews, if you saw yours, yay! If not I'll try to squeeze it in there. Please review as much as you want! I adore reviews, also if you have any secret, hush hush, suggestion PM and I will try to include your genius in if I like it. Also story time I was at Wizard's Quest (interactive game…basically LOTR meets McDonald's play place) when this glorious Sherlockian thing happened. In order to unlock one of the wizard's you had to talk to a "wizard ranger". He told me to finish this quote, "People could have died.". To which I, of course replied, "That's what people do!" He then grabbed my hand and we skipped to unlock the wizard whilst quoting Sherlock. I love our fandom :D **


	36. The Jump

**A/N: I am a despicable human being. T-T. So sorry that was such a long wait, thank you for your patience.**

"Bored."

Silence.

"Bored!"

Silence.

"BORED!"

I lay upside down in the corner of the court house lounge room. My Converses dangled in front of my face, my butt was pressed uncomfortably against the intersecting walls. I had been waiting for over an hour, the court had yet to decide if I was sane or not. The irony of the situation was I was slowly losing my grasp on sanity.

I had tried to draw, but I finished a sketch of both Mycroft and Sherlock. I already had a drawing of Doc, so he was excluded from the current drawings. I banged my head repeatedly against the ground.

Why couldn't they have just shot me? That would have been way more polite.

The door at last clicked, but didn't give the bastards the satisfaction of turning around….or sitting up. In my position it was rather hard to tell what I wasn't giving the bastards. My eldest brother cleared his throat nosily. "Comfy?"

"Come, brother mine." I said, happily patting the spot next to me. "Join your sister."

Mycroft inched over to me slowly, his eyes looked old and alarmingly tired. If I could have untangled my limbs, I would have hugged him. He slid into the spot next to me. I rolled onto my stomach and buried my face into my arms. "I literally want to claw my face off."

"Figuratively." He corrected.

"Nope, I'm pretty sure it's literal." I felt a comforting hand on my back, my brother sighed heavily.

"Just don't go jumping off any buildings." He grumbled softly. "The judge is making his decision now, it shouldn't be long."

"Guardian, if it is any more than five seconds I will go as nuts as my mommy dearest."

Mycroft gave a throaty chuckle, I let myself grin into my arms. When he wasn't laughing at pathetic mortals, Mycroft had a sweet laugh. I pushed my back into his knee. "I don't want to leave you buttheads."

"Sometimes we have to leave the ones we care about in order to protect them." My brother spoke with wisdom I did not want to hear. "Moriarty is going to win this game because I cannot let my little sister go."

I turned my head to look at him. "You've let enough things go, Mycroft. Hang on to something for once."

He pushed my head back into my arms rudely. I grunted as my nose touched the floor. "Sherlock, is better at letting things go than I. It is my only weakness."

"Sherlock has a heart only for five things." I muttered. Doc, Mrs. Hudson, Lestrade, me, and though he'd never admit it, Mycroft.

My eldest brother shrugged. "He let all of them go in one foul jump."

"It wasn't real." I defended.

"He was gone from the people he cared about for three years, love." Mycroft said softly. "It was painfully for him."

I wrinkled my nose in distain. "Forgive the pending rude comment, but how do you know?"

"My dear sister, who do you think kept him hidden?" He said easily.

"Nobody told me how he did it." I defended. "I got a call one day saying my cousin was dead and a call three years later saying no he wasn't. It's kind of why I thought if Sherlock could do it…Dad could too."

Mycroft grinned crookedly. "Would you like to hear the how, Jade?"

"Duh." I sat straight up. "Tell. Tell. Tell!"

"Shush, you sound like your four." Mycroft chuckled. "It is rather simple, there are only so many ways a person can jump off a building and live." His eyes twinkled.

"You know you make feel like such an idiot when you say things like that." I huffed. Mycroft deserved a punch in the arm. But I was trying to prove to a court that I was sane and not violent.

His ass whooping could wait until we got home.

"Think. How can you survive such a fall?"

"You can not jump." I said smartly.

"Precisely." Mycroft gave a mischievous smile. "Think of who he employed for help dear child, a mortician. A dead body cannot die a second time, therefore it did not complain when Sherlock pitched him off."

"Yeah, but Doc was watching him." I replied uneasily. Mycroft was pulling my leg.

"As much as you and Sherlock care for the dear doctor you give him too much credit. An employee of mine Darren Brown is a fantastic student of hypnosis. The doctor was down in no less than five seconds I believe. From there the time on his watch was switched, and your dear brother switched spots with his stunt double."

"You've got one giant hole in that theory, brother mine. Doc watched him leap from the building."

"Did he watch him jump all the way, or just brace for the jump? It is very difficult to tell under hypnosis. Sherlock made sure the dear doctor's eyes remained on him, until the instructions had been given. John would forget five seconds of the time Sherlock switched with his double."

"You evil little Brit." I grumped. "Doc checked his pulse."

"Ah, I am quite proud of this one. It was a racket ball." Mycroft chuckled. "A tight ball placed forcefully under the armpit will give the illusion of no pulse. From there Sherlock's homeless net work took his neck and his other wrist pulse leaving the doctor only one wrist to check. It is a trick. It is a magic trick. Sherlock was trying to clue John in."

"Mycroft, that is amazing." I gaped. "I bow at the feet of the superior Holmes' boys." I grinned towards him. "I hope I am as smart as that one day."

"You will be. You are already so much like Sherlock."

"Thank you?" I said unsurely.

Mycroft chuckled. The bailiff opened the door and beckoned us towards the courtroom. My brother kept in his sights at all time, I knew if I did win my case I would be coddled until Moriarty was dead…again.

Mycroft stopped me outside the courtroom. "What will you do if they say you must go back with your mother?" He asked seriously.

I shrugged. "Run aw…"

"Jayden." He caught my chin and made me look at him. "If they rule with your mother I do not want you to come back to England. Please, promise me that."

"And if they rule I am my own guardian can I stay with you?" I countered.

"I am your guardian." He smiled. "And I would prefer it if you stayed with me instead of Sherlock after this. I won't force you, but my security is…shall we say tighter."

"I'll talk to Sherlock when the time comes." I said fairly. "And I can't promise that Mycroft, you are my brother. I love you."

"Caring is not…"

"Shut up and say it back." I laughed.

"I love you too, Jade. That is why I struggle with this, in both cases I am losing." He sounded like he was going to be sick. I gripped his hand.

"Hey, we're Holmes. It'll be alright."

He gave me an unsure smile, and we strolled into the courtroom. Mom was giving Mycroft the death glare, Sherlock was smiling fiercely, and Doc had fallen asleep in his seat. I could have laughed.

My family.

The judge looked my straight in the eye, I gulped.

"Jayden Grace Holmes, if I give you custody of yourself where will you go."

"I will stay here, sir." I said firmly.

The judge nodded. "I hope you do. Your mother…" He frowned. "Well I rule in favor of Ms. Jayden Holmes."

The hammer hit the pallet proclaiming my freedom. I gave the lawyer, Mr. Moran, a quick hug.

"Thank you, sir."

"No, no, Ms. Holmes. Thank you."


End file.
